Oct/Nov 2014 Poetry

Two Poems

by Kenneth Pobo

Artwork by Susan Klebanoff

Artwork by Susan Klebanoff

Grotesque Dream

Painting by Alfred Kubin

Madelyn, the mother of five,
considers romance to be dark

chocolate—she craves it,
eats too much, ends up talking

to a wave, shore like a letter
her mother wrote her from the grave

that she can't read. Death,
a fragrant guy in a boat, floats by,

calls to her. She turns away,
will not become his harbor.


Aunt Gwen Tellin' It

My dreams are like Japanese
beetles eating holes into a just
bloomed white hibiscus. You think
that if my dreams come "true"
then I'll be pulled up from a river
that I never jumped into. Dreams
beget dreams. And nightmares.

I thought I wanted to marry,
to have kids. That one came "true"—
it's like a nighttime dream I have
where all my teeth fall out.
     I wake up


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