This poem won Honourable mention in the 2009 2-Day Poem Contest
My Rumi, your Yeats. You back the threadbare furniture out the parlour
door. I don’t help. In the kitchen, water unboils; effervescent dust motes
float above the white stove. A tumbler of kumquat preserves coagulates
on the window sill. Noxious cleaners tumble from under the kitchen sink,
freed; the dust pan stands awkwardly against the wall. A quagmire of
plastic bags unbind themselves and launch onto the floor. A gradation of
stains on the white counter is unprinted by the sponge with bits of egg
clinging to it. Toast crumb and coffee grain confetti disperses behind the
appliances. Stray pennies left on the floor remind how we improvise. The
freak fortune of our meeting coalesces with the closing of the door.
Turning back, the hands on the dial stand up straight, embrace as if they
mail on the table
addressed to no one we know
cup we found outside
Published online June 01 2009.
This poem was a winner in CV2’s annual 2-Day Poem Contest. Every April, CV2 challenges players to create a new original poem that uses all 10 words of our choosing. It’s poetry under pressure for prizes, publication, and personal bests. Learn how to sign up for the next 2-Day Poem Contest.