from The Abandoned Poems
Balocchi di grazia sì, fiori d'arancio
division. Work ethic of hollyhocks,
counts as similar to this yard
the smell of you
is all you ever were
small girl biting
her way into a story
biting her way
through her soft yellow voice
to save what's worth saving:
of paper. Any night
coming, I'll feel you
right through that door.
After Louise Mathias
The poet no longer dreams of her coming breakfast. Inspiration waits
in the caves at the heart of the mountain. She pulls the mountain
of heaven and earth around her but no longer sleeps
soundly. This routine is old. She's weary of the sublime hunger,
the swarms of melody, the eggs over easy.
After Robert Richman
Barry Schwabsky is an American poet and art critic living in London. His new collection is Book Left Open in the Rain (Black Square Editions/The Brooklyn Rail). The two poems published here are from a new project for which he has asked fellow poets to give him their abandoned poems to finish.