Volume 10 (Fall 2015)
Today is my first time. Steve is shaking.
He rearranges the chair, the pillow, drops
his terry cloth robe. Arty, Mary,
Anna, and myself with Diane's envelope of burnt
twigs she made at home. Steve makes his body
into what an artist wants, shadows and scale.
Every hair is shaved. Now he leans forward,
belly squeezed between thighs. I move back
behind the easel. He turns to look at me –
his eyes are blue, like my father's. I scrape
the light falling down the scaffolding of his spine,
push the charcoal with my whole body because
I am thinking of a poem about my father's spine;
it is broken and I don't know him yet.
Karen Terrey's poems have appeared in Rhino, Puerto del Sol, WordRiot, Cider Press Review and Sierra Nevada Review. Her chapbook Bite
and Blood (2015) is available from Finishing Line Press. A graduate of the Goddard College MFA in creative writing, she lives in Truckee, CA with her Cattledog Stoli.
On Libations: I've just recently discovered Earl Grey tea with the essence of Bergamot – alone with a round mug cupped in my hands first thing in the morning, add a little whole milk, and a window to gaze out - that's nearly enough contentment to last the whole day.