To Catch You, mixed media, 2021
opera a theme for belonging moment of inner peace a hawk cries the violin is under snow a poem that isn’t what it ought to be a mock waterfall an oboe playing polka dots with your eyes a knock at the door the kind of self-deception that is necessary for survival if i smoked, this cigarette would taste of pomegranates and swarming streets sentimental impersonal as a snail my body is the shape of twilight overflows garden walls, exit signs dances without looking
You can find my latest chapbook, Has Had Paradise: A Poetry Collection in my Etsy shop, along with art prints for To Catch You and other handmade collages.
The Used Life 
9 responses to “Exit Signs”
Gorgeous! Of course. ✨ I was going to write a standout line, but there are too many.
I mentioned your book and art in my post today. Hope you don’t mind. 😄 You know I am a fan of your art. Best to you!
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Thank you so much, Michele! I appreciate the mention, and I am delighted you like the poem. I have to say, after I read your comment, I changed the image in this post to one of my collages. You motivated me to find one that was aesthetically similar. Be well, and thank you again! 😊
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My absolute pleasure. I will revisit and take a look. 😄
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‘if i smoked, this cigarette
would taste of pomegranates and
swarming streets’
– how ace! The comma, particularly, is eye-catching.
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Thank you, Nick. I had to read the line again to get your meaning. As I don’t smoke, the comma was natural. Always refreshing to see our work differently!
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This is wonderful. I can’t point to a single line, because they are all so good. Really, this is fantastic.
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Thank you!
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So many good lines throughout this one..wow..”a knock at the door the kind of self-deception
that is necessary for survival” is such truth placed perfectly within the poem..and the closing stanza “my body is the shape of twilight overflows garden walls, exit signs dances without looking” brings such a strong visual to my mind…dancing effortlessly, without looking, my movement overflowing…as I move with a cigarette that tastes like it was meant for me…and yet meant for no one…or everyone…well done, my friend.
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Thank you so much, my friend! Your analyses always read like a kind of poetic criticism. I’m happy the poem resonates, and I love your understanding of it. I hope you have a great week!
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