Rose Mary Boehm: Poinciana and then some
Green canopies aflame with
an unreal red, lit by the dying sun.
Yonhi in the plastic chair, blue baseball
cap pushed back. He’s seen it all.
Bertolt Brecht: In Praise of Doubt
What one thought to be certain,
wavered. But wherever
the wavering wavered,
even the wavering did not waver enough.
Rose Mary Boehm: Summer Trance
As large as the hill, I become a green, languid
animal, a soft giant with giant eyes, become
green love. Fat bees buzz in my lavender bushes
Rose Mary Boehm: “Apolitical Preferences” by Hans Magnus Enzensberger
The cellist’s little smile
after the cadenza in the second movement,
even though the Security Council
just convened
Rose Mary Boehm: Sunsets on Mars are Blue
We’ll soon be sending settlers to Mars.
They’ll be sitting on their porches contemplating
the Martian sunsets.
Rose Mary Boehm: Three poems
Fernando pushed out his boat.
Young, brown, muscular and carefree.
The birds screeched in anticipation
of his return. Sea lions pretended
not to notice.
Rose Mary Boehm: “Leisure” by Hans Magnus Enzensberg
lawn mower, sunday
decapitating the seconds
and the grass.
