God of Roman gardens, obscene Priapus,
is that you? now risen in green and purple
thick-stalked rigor, here in the bed prepared for
You find it when you're tearing up your life,
trying to make some sense of the old messes,
moving dressers, peering under beds.
Forgive us. We have dragged them into the night
in taffeta dresses, in stiff collars and ties,
with the wind damp, the sleet raking their cheeks,
A ritual for the year about to turn:
We drive off, ceremonious, under a dark
star-pricked and clear. A tinsel-curl of moon
Maryann Corbett (born Washington, D.C.) is an American poet.
She grew up in northern Virginia. She did her undergraduate work at the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia, and graduated from the University of Minnesota, with a doctorate in English. Her work has appeared in River Styx, Atlanta Review, The Evansville Review, Measure, ...