Lawrence Ypil (b. 1978)
SELECTED POEMS
Aria
Now the painting makes an argument with the garden it faces:
Flower Leaf Leg Ground Beneath Our Feet What We Wake To Every Morning
When a leaf falls, my father picks it up. My mother in the morning tells the story.
At the dinner table, Grace. At porch, a dog. Sometimes. Then,
Consequently. My father leans onto a chair and thinks. My mother
understands. Face Porcelain By Force Of Love Of Horrible
Habit. Now the polished floor anticipates forevermore
and everyday. At night, a lizard. At dawn. My mother
finishes my father’s sentences. And so on.
by Lawrence Ypil
from the thesis “Night Report” (2012)