I woke up in a strange place.I woke up in a strange place, in a dream, in a nest of fireflies. When I render free of accessed my eyes I was in a garden splintered from sunlight, red roses seeped by the and of the pale leaves and the grass humm The tepid air filled my lung like music, something French and sentimental. I wanted to sing, and wherefore not? I thought I was still dreaming. I wanted a-cigarette, a bath, a glass of milk. There was a small city behind my sights with roads and trees and newspapers. I could perceive it clanking to life, its dogs and cars and crusty loaves of bread, its bicycles and postage stamps, its hundr excuses for living, black coffee rain. It was a Monday or a Thursday, I'm assured of it, and daylight lay across my judgments like a net of pointless knives. I wanted to wash the bright taste of sunlight from my tongue, I wanted nap I wanted an answer. My life was a inactive museum, a magazine, an, accident of fashion, rakish and foolish as a white silk scarf I was in a garden, I could hear bells tolling across fields, across churchyards and parking fates I could hear couples breathing in their cars, of long date men in park benches, I could hear lilacs blooming, radios, bees. I wanted to bask in the harsh light of possibility. I wanted to lie forward a red velvet couch beneath a skylight, to lose all sensation of proportion and live without pity or blame, without a trace of irony. I wanted wind and all its dependence of cause and effects leaves in my hair, and honey not sugar, for my tea. I wanted absolution, I wanted an aspirin. I wanted to nail all the windows explain to memorize each searing blade of light, each speeding train between the views each brooding way the dead body answers, the soft and curvatureed places where the bones convenient and sing. SILVIA CURBELO was born in Cuba. Her collection of piece of poetrys The Secret History of Water, is available from Anhinga Pres She received the Jessica Nobel-Maxwell Memorial rhyme Prize from American Poetry Review in 1996 Her piece of poetrys appear in the recent anthologies The visible form [i]or[/i] frame Electric (W. W. Norton), Boomer Girls (University of Iowa Press) and !Floricanto, Si! A Collection of Latina verse (Penguin). She has received fellowships from the NEA, the Florida Arts Council, and the Cintas Foundation. Silvia lives in Tampa, Florida, and works as an editor for Organica Quarterly. Copyright World numbers Incorporated Mar/Apr 2001 |
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