Elizabeth Liechti Poems

The sun falls
Daylight shatters.
They spill across the air
A stream of shadows
...

Is my little one hungry?
Then eat little monster, heap your plate, have seconds,
Heck, have thirds.
Have some nice roast rage, fresh out of the oven:
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Two by two
In that shadowed secret place way in the back
With the magic door.
Black and white wingtips.
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What are you reading?
Words. Words. Words.
Words have a funny way of becoming as real as credit card statements
As chest-pain inducing as teenagers
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The ceiling leaks
The rug was nineteen seventies hideous
Until the gift:
A Turkish carpet lovingly beautiful
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Indecisive wind first west now south
Warm surface air, still, the threat of Lake Superior gales
Glancing fox-sly from underneath.
I sit on a dirty plastic garden chair
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In amber-tinted afternoons while the old ones
Drink sable tea and listen to the sunlight
Dabble in the goldfish pools
The children and the griffons play mindgames
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Last night
As I sat hunched before the window I saw a unicorn
Making its trumpet fanfare dancing maiden way
Along the alley's dirty ice. I went out to her
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