Terese Svoboda's fifth book of poetry, Weapons Grade (U of Arkansas P), was published last year. Her fifth novel, Pirate Talk or Mermalade (Dzanc Books), has just come out.
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She Says Soon She’ll Be Dead Too
We drive out, passing stone
after stone on both sides.
It’s not as if she says sorry, I’m so—
Maybe it’s rainy and cold. Or
boiling hot. Grey as I am, but a grey close
to what I now think of as young,
I pink. As if it would be fine
to lose her too. Dead too,
a consolation. From the window
the perspective opens
to long rows of corn
strong, tall and green.
I say Of course or even Good,
and still she repeats it.
Thug
For a time, he bears
both parent and offspring
into a forest decidedly
deciduous. He’s so bent
he sees only the leaves
covering the shoots
at the trunks. Yes, growth
does occur but he
doesn’t notice his own.
It is only after the offspring
find their feet and flee
with See you! that he hears
his parents’ breath shorten,
the birds' stopped song,
the brush rustle. All he’s left
with is his watch.