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KELLY CALDWELL

Vorhandenheit CONTEST WINNER

This broom is an odd way to talk about architecture. Its labor is to break between two hands. As a shelter from the rain the broom is useless. What an interesting world in which taxis Drive along the course of history. Someone I had married traveled to Rome To look at the ruthless river. I ask the taxi driver to surprise me And he takes me to the mouth. The light enters my skin, here and here. See how light can derange a mind. See how a mind gathers to itself Like a clutch of yokes under a Columbian Blacktail. We thought the world was lit from within. You said, I possessed nothing in confidence. You touched everything of mine there was to touch. You would take no for an answer. You are thought to be a form for holding shapes Like my new oval breasts in a brassiere. You were questioned sternly about innocence. You protested, I’ve never even seen a child! You became skinny and anxious. I have several childhood memories That have been caught on tape. The long afternoon struggles Like a foal trying to stand up or a drunkard trying not to fall down.

80| PHOEBE 48.2


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