Sandy Hiss Poems
|2.||Of Palms And Proposals||8/28/2007|
|7.||First Postcard From Iraq||10/1/2007|
|8.||Third Postcard From Iraq||10/1/2007|
|9.||Fourth Postcard From Iraq||10/1/2007|
|10.||Fifth Postcard From Iraq||10/1/2007|
|11.||In Full Bloom||8/29/2007|
|12.||Extracting Words From Flowers||9/9/2007|
|13.||The Pain Of Ripening||9/9/2007|
|15.||Finding Emily Dickinson||9/9/2007|
|16.||In The Pink Room||8/28/2007|
|17.||The Burden Of Charisma||8/28/2007|
The Burden Of Charisma
I watch him pull in hearts
like a fisherman harnessing his net
of fresh fish. His charisma
Did he choose that tie himself?
The answer is in his wife's smile.
She takes a bite of rich dark chocolate
to congratulate herself.
The guests gather round as he recites
his poetry in French. Stiff as his
collar, demeanor elegant yet cool.
He feels the languid drip of sweat
beneath his armpits. Smiles nervously,
wondering if anyone can see the wet
How long can this madness go on?
His voice continues to speak, ...
In The Pink Room
there is an iron bed. The posts
are scratched; the ivory paint
is peeling away its innocence.
An expensive silk throw
with hand-embroidered butterflies
flutters at the edge of seduction
atop persimmon sheets
sprinkled with blushes and petals.