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)

 

SELECTED POEMS: “recollect” >