The Poetry Section: Dorothea Lasky

by Mark Bibbins, Editor

Today in the poetry section; two new poems by Dorothea Lasky, of New York City.

People as universe

People start tragedies then blame the world
It wasn’t the world’s fault I’m afraid
That they started
The mess I couldn’t clean up
People as universe
People die, too
People as dark grey sky, the lights poke
Yellow dots of blue and silver
What is the field where the people live
What human tragedy could not stop this mess
People are the universe
When I enter a room I cheer the chatter of a thousand men
When I touch one heart, it spills its sky right out
What snow of hearts spill out
But leave no reminder?
And how do I feel? I am alone
I was always alone
Dead person in a peopled universe, with flowers
Dead grass in a simple universe
With people
The animals of the everlasting like clear blue stars and planets
The heart of the evermore a thick blue plate
Held up against an infinite light

I am the horse

I am the horse people should bet on
I am the person who will likely save you from a fire
I am the person who is black smoke
And blows black smoke in your eyes
I am the squeaky noise at night
I am the tables, and paper, and slugs
I am the thing that most excites you
I am the thing that most excites you
I am the horse that you should bet on
When you put your money down

Dorothea Lasky is the author of Black Life (Wave Books, 2010) and AWE (Wave Books, 2007). Currently, she lives in New York City.

You can reach the editors at [email protected].