Bronwen Tate
2 poems
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Blood Orange Marmalade
Walking in the dark brings me to transformations. Various phrases start up in my mind but don’t demand to be completed. He thought she said “ambition is the eyes and legs of emotion.” We can see the dome from the campsite. I’ll sit down con la famosa calma and write letters tomorrow. Probably cantaloupe. It’ll all sift through somehow. I still don’t like to see people around the house anyway. “I used to scratch open my oranges like a cat, before I went to Sicily,” his father said. You won’t find cappelletti anywhere but here. “Because you won’t go out to dinner with me?” Dr. Riccio asked Anna, thinking there was only one word.
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Pistachios
I need another of water and then. I go over my check-list: flip-flops, towel, pieces of swim-suit, goggles, swim cap, lock for locker, money to pay for a 10 entry pass, shampoo and conditioner, lemon, a change of underwear. Then he measured my ankle and leg muscles and the angles of how I was able to bend. Past continuous. Couldn’t hear the crossword puzzle over the wind and splashing. The corner of the portico was glowing when the rain struck the hills. You were mispronouncing “drinks and snacks” when she burst in.
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return to sawbuck 1.3
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Bronwen Tate writes, teaches English composition, knits, and makes soup in New York City. Occasionally she does other things. You can follow her progress at Bread and Jam for Frances. Recent poems have appeared in How2 Journal, TYPO, Dusie, and CAB/NET.
**
Blood Orange Marmalade
Walking in the dark brings me to transformations. Various phrases start up in my mind but don’t demand to be completed. He thought she said “ambition is the eyes and legs of emotion.” We can see the dome from the campsite. I’ll sit down con la famosa calma and write letters tomorrow. Probably cantaloupe. It’ll all sift through somehow. I still don’t like to see people around the house anyway. “I used to scratch open my oranges like a cat, before I went to Sicily,” his father said. You won’t find cappelletti anywhere but here. “Because you won’t go out to dinner with me?” Dr. Riccio asked Anna, thinking there was only one word.
**
Pistachios
I need another of water and then. I go over my check-list: flip-flops, towel, pieces of swim-suit, goggles, swim cap, lock for locker, money to pay for a 10 entry pass, shampoo and conditioner, lemon, a change of underwear. Then he measured my ankle and leg muscles and the angles of how I was able to bend. Past continuous. Couldn’t hear the crossword puzzle over the wind and splashing. The corner of the portico was glowing when the rain struck the hills. You were mispronouncing “drinks and snacks” when she burst in.
**
return to sawbuck 1.3
**
Bronwen Tate writes, teaches English composition, knits, and makes soup in New York City. Occasionally she does other things. You can follow her progress at Bread and Jam for Frances. Recent poems have appeared in How2 Journal, TYPO, Dusie, and CAB/NET.
