Monday, May 10, 2010

POEM OF THE DAY BY MONICA YOUN

Ignatz Oasis 


When you have left me
the sky drains of color

like the skin
of a tightening fist.

The sun commences
its gold prowl

batting at tinsel streamers
on the electric fan.

Crouching I hide
in the coolness I stole

from the brass rods
of your bed.


-Monica Youn
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