Hole Beall week I did wait for the bruise in the ceiling to harden so this morning the super could spoon the rot into a trash bag and from the top of his ladder spackle fresh plaster above the little tree in our room my husband drags sometimes into the shower a furious baptism to ward off white flies I plum forgot the soul was even a thing until I read a line in Lucie's book last night the soul like a trinket be I saw something then a ghost the light of my bathwater knelt upon the wall an instance of weight my hair submerged in that deep strained to rise MRB Chelko is the recipient of a 2013 Poetry Society of America Chapbook Fellowship for Manhattations. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in numerous journals including: AGNI Online; Forklift, Ohio; Indiana Review; Poetry International; and Washington Square Review. Her other chapbooks are The World after Czeslaw Milosz (Dream Horse Press, 2012) and What to Tell the Sleeping Babies (sunnyoutside, 2010). Chelko holds an MFA in Poetry from The University of New Hampshire. She lives in Central Harlem. |