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Collage: A Vixen, Taunting

by Paul Lastovica



Deep within - a sort of monument
moving in the stillness of a foggy night


momentarily gnawed at
devoid of blood like the center of life


there is room for the violence of nature
chintz curtains soaked with rain


swooping low to taste
memorized cocktail party phrases


cells and atoms are out there sharing blood scents
as speeding moments swallow up grand perpetual sleep


a dream of arranging flowers by the hearth
when the moon is pillowy fat


in search of a way across this great table
where there are no boundries; where greenery and quiet wait


like a cool young vixen, taunting.


06/25/2015

Author's Note: Source Material: The Orange Willow Review Spring/Summer 1999

Posted on 06/26/2015
Copyright © 2022 Paul Lastovica

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 06/29/15 at 03:18 PM

Lively, thought provoking piece, Paul.

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 07/03/15 at 11:44 PM

Maybe I like these lines best because they anchor me in the familiar while other lines disturb and swirl me and pull me from my comfy chair - "a dream of arranging flowers by the hearth when the moon is pillowy fat". I enjoyed the structure of the two line stanzas.

Posted by Laura Doom on 07/16/15 at 11:19 PM

Life scrolls past us in breaking flatlines and we are unmoving, unmoved...foggy is the operative state. And I tell myselves: "Lastovica said it best..."

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