| Muses Review- Poems Summer 2005 - July |
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| I.. Poems of Lenore Weiss, (California) Oslo According to Nina by Lenore Weiss Source: Public and Other Places (2003), p. 3 Press: Canyon Oaks Press I was the one who brought them water to the table, water poured from a blue pitcher with lemons and ice cubes not because it was hot in Oslo, but because they were from the Middle East, Every hour I entered the room, the windows covered in white silk banners trimmed with a yellow braid the banners were the gift of a clothing manufacturer who wanted his name to appear on more than a dress label My job was to walk up to each crystal glass and see that the levels remained equal. The men read their negotiations by the clock "Only one more hour to lunch, boys," or, " No one pours water for me like you, Nina," which, yes, is a Russian name. They were not being flirtatious so much as familiar. We were all locked up in the room together trying not to be prisoners. Others brought them food: garbanzos falafel, hummus. We made sure that the lamb was kosher. They ate the same thing, anyway men whose suits had been pressed in the same desert together, sitting around a table from the old library which had been rebuilt during the War where I first learned to put water, water that arches from the lip of the pitcher to the glass without frightening the dove beating her wings against the window. -------------------------- Copyright belongs to Lenore Weiss. Published with permission from poet. |
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| Muses Review Online Summer 2005-July Table of Contents Editor's Page Editor's Poem Medalists Poems Poem Reviews Book Reviews Interviews Advertisments |
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| Lenore Weiss Poet from California |
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| A Woman With Two Vaginas by Lenore Weiss Source: Public And Other Places, (2003), p.23 Press: Canyon Oaks Press 1. a woman with two vaginas remembers how music used to float through her window, now she hears the soft call of Vicadin a mouth like a flute she pants through her fist, fools pain into orgasm Labor Day is time to dance along city blocks with sun and moon near water smoke smells of chicken grilled on a stick, her spine crumbles into vanilla cookie crumbs, whoops, she stpes on them. 2. with her parents, they were a family, now she sleeps on dirt where pebbles rise, rubs herself to sleep dreaming plates of warm food after she and her boyfriend have sex, all (Complete poem available in Print edition of Muses Review.) ---------------------------- Copyright belongs to Lenore Weiss. Published with permission from poet. |
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