a path through bodies (ismaelson) wrote in poetryislove,
a path through bodies
ismaelson
poetryislove

Makeup by Dora Malech

Makeup
by Dora Malech


My mother does not trust
women without it.
What are they not hiding?
Renders the dead living

and the living more alive.
Everything I say sets
the clouds off blubbering
like they knew the pretty dead.

True, no mascara, no evidence.
Blue sky, blank face. Blank face,
a faithful liar, false bottom.
Sorrow, a rabbit harbored in the head.

The skin, a silly one-act, concurs.
At the carnival, each child's cheek becomes
a rainbow. God, grant me a brighter myself.
Each breath, a game called Live Forever.

I am small. Don't ask me to reconcile
one shadow with another. I admit—
paint the dead pink, it does not make
them sunrise. Paint the living blue,

it does not make them sky, or sea,
a berry, clapboard house, or dead.
God, leave us our costumes,
don't blow in our noses,

strip us to the underside of skin.
Even the earth claims color
once a year, dressed in red leaves
as the trees play Grieving.



[from Poetry (May 2007), http://www.poetrymagazine.org/magazine/0507/poem_179577.html]
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 0 comments