Three Poems, Three Art Works by stephanie roberts

IceFloe Press


words stretch a liquid skin over meaning
sound uses the arithmetic of fate and faith
as knife dividing important and matter.
i’m not going to say i’m busy when i’m not interested.
                    everyone will suffer a degree of hearing loss.

trust a comfort of lies but fear
the woman unafraid of being
                                          the truth.
halfway between heaven and dreaming i release
the guy-wire to fall through a kaleidoscope of monotones
and droning piano chords. my singing voice is ignored

until i hit the chorus. people polish the covers
of what they hide. i wax sincere with you as bad habit
of first born daughters who try to mean only
intentionally. precursor to betrayal. i want to co-exist
with disappointment as with the drug dealers
and prostitutes across the hall who borrowed my boots.
they need a place to live without being compelled
to note every lip curl, shudder and…

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