Of Human Bodies

Poem By Norma Cole

Here the subject thinks "there could be flowers" or "the water was a bit disturbed when the ring fell in." All that, painted from said things, pleases it. That explains all things except for Ovid's exile which we will probably never understand. That adds to our sense of fragility, confirms the order in which we read. You still have the right to bear arms, "thing and joy," the anxious doubt that was once written about.

There are several versions of the story where she is transformed into a swallow, flies around a pillar.

And do you find the rhyme? It originally meant spoken, the sentence, but spoken. Flight, interchangeable with fate. As for myself, I can't begin to approach the woods with it. The words of its condition.

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Other poems of COLE

from "In Our Own Backyard"

You can't imagine what it's like here. In her past
life, she was a clandestine operator in ancient
Egypt. In a past life she had her heart ripped out,

A

one box falls out of another box, ashy covenant of separation
two birds, one clamp, no reaction just hanging there as the arrow moved
notes put the map back into the water

Riptide

There's a shadow over the city
the light, as usual, framing and erasing

Just say you

Sarabande

"and then looks at
the stars" from the
bed in the ambulance

Variations on Some of Dante's Last Lines

And move and hold back
entering by the highroad through the words
and fall like a person hit by sleep