Denise Liddell Lawson
Voir Dire - Poem by Denise Liddell Lawson
Tell me about yourself.
Inflection expresses pleasure.
Where are you from?
A house with many drawers and in each one is a bird.
Monarch orange and bristling.
What do you do?
The wind picks up.
How do you do it?
I dig out the seed with a nail.
Do you believe in progress?
Evolution is spelled erratically.
Bark, split and patched with lichen.
And your heroes?
Shadows trade places.
What are your ambitions?
Oxygen flows through a window and I lose track of it.
What do you value?
Attention is currency.
In the morning, the stimulation of water; later, of letters.
In a word?
Hammock. Or havoc.
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The Road Not Taken
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