invention & untitled
by Ditta Baron Hoeber
[ poetry - july 09 ]
invention
you can hear the wind all day up here.
can't think with it whining setting things banging.
exhausting. and the sound makes me cold.
I wrap myself in my father's sweater.
in real life my father wasn't a comfort.
but now he's died I own him.
I make him keep me warm.
untitled
the shell
is old
but
the blood
runs
runs
hot.
the skin
shivers
with intelligence.
the mind
like a too full mouth
can't chew it fast enough.
laughter
creases the skin
around the eyes.
the eyes.
that too.
