Collaborate2011

poem 10, Raphael Matto

In poetry, Raphael Matto on July 19, 2011 at 11:21 pm

Her father brought a rifle home,
and put it in the refrigerator

with the food. She poured
milk from its chamber

onto her cereal, and the
black metal of her spoon

was so cold it made her head spin;
the wood floor lifted, twisted,

and banged together a tree
that she climbed up —

out of her house.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: