Jacquelyn Turnage Poems

You were Mr. How-Do-You-Do
And Mr. Holier-Than-Thou
All and none of these personalities conjunct
You worked inevitably, beautifully against me
...

March on, continue on dark one
With your little poor black feet
Pounding the dusty Earth in the black veil of night.
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Words like tattered sails
Fail to harness air
Or the faintest breath of life.
The heart, left empty now
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Beyond parted velveteen lips
A dilapidated picket of enamel lies
Partly grayed by the Eiffel
Mostly hushed by the violent sands
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Rancid remnants on porcelain
Dust accumulates
Pursuing the ideal-perfection.
...