Elizabeth Romero: Surfaces
We are trapped waiting
Moving behind the windows
The night weeps and heaves
Elizabeth Romero: The Next Big Thing
Oh, beautiful death from the sky!
Please, do not strike me
Or my dark tree.
Elizabeth Romero: Happiness
I live in a pink truck at the edge of the sky.
Elizabeth Romero: My Real Resume
I want to know why the corporate mentality sucks so bad.
Elizabeth Romero: The Sisters Who Raised Me
Now I thank the black butterflies, the Sisters who raised me.
Sister Jane, who taught me how to garden and identify weeds.
Sister Marie Therese, kind and soft. Sister May Bride
Who defied authority to comfort me when I was disgraced.
Elizabeth Romero: Album
Here are my two sons in 1968
In their father’s arms.
He looks harmless.
They look doubtful and uneasy.
Elizabeth Romero: Wind
The evidence of wind is in the scarves
Of people waiting for the bus
Elizabeth Romero: Strawberry Moon
The moon in her lopsided veil
like a hillbilly bride
her face round and pale pink
against the darkening blue.
Elizabeth Romero: On the Corner
If
(by some miracle)
We could be both dead and alive
Rise from the blood and ashes
Gauzy like movie ghosts
Elizabeth Romero: My Aunt’s Pantry
It took everything, every bit of strength I had,
To say, The others will be missing us.
He turned on his heel and left.
Elizabeth Romero: Day’s End
Let’s say I’m someone
empty as a pitcher,
discordant as traffic, human as an alley cat,
stiff-legged and torn-eared.
Elizabeth Romero: So, Mr Death
So many I’ve lost; I see them
Down a long corridor the door open
To a bright snowy day.
Elizabeth Romero: Being Poor
It can be waiting
And telling your children to wait
Wait their whole childhoods away.
It’s knowing they blame you.
Vox Populi 