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Poem: English as a Second Language

October 15, 2011

found this on W.W. Norton’s tumblr and it blew me away.

English as a Second Language

That voice—from the tv—that voice,
thick smoky cheese, or, no—
dark as burnt flan, sweet,
venison-sweet in the heavy smoke
of a tavern hearth, and hot as brandy.
I served that voice for months,
in a theater on 13th near Third
where losers are the ones who crack first.
I gave you azured hours, nights,
and you placed your soul,
pretty as a dead mouse, at my feet.
Gutturals, the candles guttering backstage.
Your voice went everywhere
you dared not put your hands.

April Bernard, from Swan Electric

 

I’ve never heard of April Bernard… but wow. I want to read more.

Sometimes I wish the inside of my head sounded like this. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, it does. And I have a pen to write some of it down.

 

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