A poem by Rebecca Bird

Some Lovers Try Positions That They Can’t Handle Considering the 1 2 3 4 of her digits and the ziggurat of carpal bones: all columned cashews and peashells, pumice-stones and corner-moons, her hand should not be too hard to hold. In the morning, it passes me coffee, points out the Sunday funnies in the paper. At the beach, her hand cups like a sieve … Continue reading A poem by Rebecca Bird

Josephine CorcoranAugust 7, 2014

Poetry, Winter Poems

A poem by Rebecca Bird

Progression I from the bedroom, he sees a brigade of snow V through a streetlamp’s mottled brights, a cheap party moon that hangs in the streamers and calls it winter. Warm in a marriage bed, blankets clamouring like ancient choirs, he thinks of cinnamon drinks, white-capped cars, IV and not of the boy he saw today in the market. A young lad, pencilled … Continue reading A poem by Rebecca Bird

Josephine CorcoranNovember 19, 2013May 28, 2014

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Tag: Rebecca Bird

A poem by Rebecca Bird

A poem by Rebecca Bird