A Woman Dreams Of Escaping Her House On The Water
Twenty three apples are lying in a field &
everyone dies. Where do the birds go? I lied
about my name. Said I didn’t have one:
But once, in the storm, I thought I saw my reflection
made out of boat parts, believed my eyes were a cabin’s side
paneling, saw myself hovering in the double glass: my face
like a wavering, water-logged rope. Tried to touch myself
between the darkness, but found only empty spaces.
But what, I thought, with all the waves
& past them, and forward, what with all the aching
ship masts, what with all the broken ship pasts,
what are we going to do with all these ghosts
and their biting feet, where are we going to hide them
when our lovers come home from work and what
will we say when our lovers say tell us everything?
Kallie Falandays has poems published in, or forthcoming from, PANK, Paper Darts, ILK, Black Warrior Review, Menacing Hedge, Salt Hill, Skydeer Helpking, Tupelo Quarterly, and burntdistrict. She edits mojo magazine and Kenning journal.