Gabrielle Martin Poems

I've a promise of a future
laced with elongated vowels
and sprinkled with white flurries
crystallized in late December air.
...

Also Kora,
Proserpina,
Spring.
...

If you were a lion,
would the sight of a gazelle carcass
delight or disgust you?
...

There is not a poem for it,
and I cannot
write one.
...

Do you believe in love?

What artist
does not
...

Where it ended
was where I

began
...

For three years I've bargained
rested eyes and sanity for a gram
of poetry on the scale.
...

I'm in a rotten apple mood,
and all the pacifying poetry
I could write
would be in gibberish-
...

I do not care much
to write;
soliloquy of repression.
The sensation of men
...