Hilarity is my favorite word
·
for Aad)
When I come to my best friend with questions of the breast
questions of the left breast now over the right
he does not dismiss me. Does it hurt he says
my mother hurt he says
her breasts scarred & pitted.
I am past the mention of breasts now.
I do not weep at the steering wheel spinning
I do not weep at the absence of a loving God's face
when I look to the sill's sleepwalker.
My daughter sleepwalks my friend says
we follow her we dare not wake her. Do not wake me
then, feign I am sleepwalking
feign my trance should not be broken. Pummel my breasts
like that boy when I was sixteen after the fireworks
pummel my breasts as if they are invincible!!
Hilarity is my favorite word I'm telling everyone
hilarity is the word carved from acorn shells
I roll in my palms. Do they hurt
my best friend says no they do not
hurt at all I ignore them as the grandfather clock ignores
its pendulum swaying as the clock ignores
the mark of doom's joy to come.
CAROLYN SRYGLEY-MOORE is the author of three books of poetry, most
recently Songs Scared from the Conch // as voices carry, an on-line collaboration.
She has been published in numerous reviews, including Bone Orchard Poetry, with
work forthcoming elsewhere. Carolyn is a Pushcart and Best of the Web nominee,
and an award-winning graduate of Johns Hopkins University's Writing Seminars. She
lives in Upstate New York with her husband, daughter, and three dogs.
·
for Aad)
When I come to my best friend with questions of the breast
questions of the left breast now over the right
he does not dismiss me. Does it hurt he says
my mother hurt he says
her breasts scarred & pitted.
I am past the mention of breasts now.
I do not weep at the steering wheel spinning
I do not weep at the absence of a loving God's face
when I look to the sill's sleepwalker.
My daughter sleepwalks my friend says
we follow her we dare not wake her. Do not wake me
then, feign I am sleepwalking
feign my trance should not be broken. Pummel my breasts
like that boy when I was sixteen after the fireworks
pummel my breasts as if they are invincible!!
Hilarity is my favorite word I'm telling everyone
hilarity is the word carved from acorn shells
I roll in my palms. Do they hurt
my best friend says no they do not
hurt at all I ignore them as the grandfather clock ignores
its pendulum swaying as the clock ignores
the mark of doom's joy to come.
CAROLYN SRYGLEY-MOORE is the author of three books of poetry, most
recently Songs Scared from the Conch // as voices carry, an on-line collaboration.
She has been published in numerous reviews, including Bone Orchard Poetry, with
work forthcoming elsewhere. Carolyn is a Pushcart and Best of the Web nominee,
and an award-winning graduate of Johns Hopkins University's Writing Seminars. She
lives in Upstate New York with her husband, daughter, and three dogs.
