Terese Svoboda Poems
|3.||Body Mostly Flown||8/26/2014|
|9.||Glass Of Water Encounter||8/26/2014|
|10.||Hamlet In Hirsute||8/26/2014|
|11.||Hope Wanted Alive||8/26/2014|
|13.||Love Light (Schadenfreude)||8/26/2014|
|14.||Motion Makes Us Cough||8/26/2014|
|15.||Selected Imagery Based On Physical Gesture||8/26/2014|
|17.||The Blank Of America||8/26/2014|
Comments about Terese Svoboda
Mother burns on the other side of the bridge.
Mother burns the bridge and is safe on the other side.
Mother is not on the bridge when it burns.
When Mother says Burn, the bridge burns.
We can't get to the other side.
The bridge is burning.
Mother is the bridge that we burn.
She is how we get to the other side.
We can't burn the bridge without her.
Mother burns and we burn, bridge or no bridge.
She is on the other side.
Nothing burns the bridge, and then it burns.
You don't need a machine to do that.
A plastic bag will do. But he built it,
his tools cast about in the unit
while he got up his nerve to use it.
Nothing more was stored there.
A poured cement floor, a triple-locked door
after door after door down a corridor
reeking with the odor of everything over.