Bobby Byrd over on His Website , is promoting and honoring another of his fellow poets and freinds, Connie Voisine. If this poem is any indication of the caliber of her work, we all need to get out there and purchase it, or borrow it, and read it thoroughtly. I, like Bobby, cannot get my blog to allow original line breaks to remain extant when it posts poems. So I suppose that I owe apologies to hundreds of poets I have posted here, living and dead.
--Glenn Buttkus
The Bird is Her Reason
There are some bodies that emerge
into desire as a god
rises from the sea, emotion and
memory hang like dripping clothes—this
want is like
entering that heated red
on the mouth of a Delacroix lion,
stalwart, always that red
which makes
my teeth ache and my skin feel
a hand that has never touched me,
the tree groaning outside becomes
a man who knocks on my bedroom window,
edge of red on gold fur,
the horse, the wild
flip of its head, the rake of claws
across its back, the unfocussed,
Connie Voisine
Published initially on University of Chicago Press .
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