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It was November outside–
the leaf-colored sofa inside
strangely vivid in the flickering
light,
as if someone had died
and lounged with new-found
brightness on the depressed
cushions.
Your heart
in its pink handkerchief
was hidden.
So I looked
down at your shoes
for some signal,
as if, in the moonlight,
they might be two rare
flowers blooming along
my way–but no,
they were only shoes,
unlacing themselves,
two tight wingtips
of shadow.
~~~

Former Wallace Stegner Fellow, Susan Kelly-DeWitt is a poet and visual artist who lives in Sacramento, California.
Copyright 2024 Susan Kelly-DeWitt. From Frangible Operas (Gunpowder Press, 2024)
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Thank you!
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The juxtaposition of blooms and shoes reminds me of Lautreamont’s Chants de Maldoror: “As beautiful as the chance meeting on a dissecting-table of a sewing-machine and an umbrella”
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Beautiful! Thanks, John.
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i love this poet’s mind—what’s on it and how it comes out. I’ve somehow missed her in the past and am grateful for the way you posted her other selections, all the tunes of that “frangible Opera” of her sensibilities! With poetry and Vox Populi we will ultimately encompass the world.
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I love your optimism and enthusiasm, Sean. Thank you!
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“They have the guns. We have the poets. We will win.”
— Howard Zinn
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Amen, Sean.
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Thank you!
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