M.L. Emmett Poems

You breathed your last breath from the air
in this room;
that threadbare Persian carpet
holds flakes from your skin;
...

Look in the mirror and what do you see?
This is your golden time, your early spring
A dew-fresh face, peachy and wrinkle free
You are sweetest rosebud near blooming
...

Young women know all about style -
how to fix the decimal point
between them and their mothers
differentiate themselves
...

The poor keep moving
as if relocation
could reframe the algebra.
...

Poems find a space for themselves
in chaos.

Poems are the wormholes
...

In the seventies
we brought back silks and saris
hot with colours
that shocked the nights
...

In Winnipeg
they dig the winter graves
in autumn
before the sun sleeps
...

Someone had intended
to mend
this beach-stranded boat
...

~ for Angela Scuteri ~


Shadows hold their breath
...

Be strong
imagine yourself
in one of those death chambers
with the stench of mortal sweat on every person
...