blog of poet, leah umansky

Strands

Can’t stop stompstomp stomping on what is packed

with echoes.

            Echoes of:       the actual

                                    the contractual

                                    the factual

In the end , it was the less-flawed that won

::the less-finished::

(where I was victorious – even notorious)

*

Nonetheless,   I looked up the chances.

felt through drawers

re-scented linings all to know:            compassion  and vitality.

                                                 *

A critic would’ve seen            holes:

tears

gathers

pulls, even,

but I see against the grain.

*

It may not be my field

            making analogies                                                                     (or is it?)

but everything changes when you take soap out of it.

say goodbye to tangles

nothing is left tepid.

*

I’m writing to hooks.

to that peacoat; that hat; that scarf; that sweater; that umbrella;

*

It’s in the domesticities:

            the plastic bags

            the tissues

            the paper towels

            what’s stuck in the drain

            and yes, the top sheet

*

Play equals pleasure

I’m still interested in what lingers

Keep it / lose it/ keep it/ lose it/ keep it/ lose it /                    keep

What I’m talking about is real.

Nonsense is a close call

            (or curtain- call.)

I always wanted to                 dance.

                        _  _

Never,           

never, never, never,

never-ever, cap

the brave.

© Umansky 2010