April is National Poetry Month. Throughout April, the Culture Blog will be showcasing the selected poems from the 2014 Words in Motion program. For more information about the program, visit: www.woodbuffalo.ab.ca/WordsInMotion
The
smell is like bitter rubber
or
A-B-C gum stamped into the concrete:
the
A-Train that takes us to Coney Island .
A
woman wraps polka-dot viscose around her face,
eyes
shift down to the floor
as
her children pass the time with leap frog,
legs
slick with a continual bend and snap.
Every
freak show has a clown
that
looks like a checkerboard,
triangle
tears slowly sweating off his face,
paint
surely ready to bubble like a fried egg.
Sally
does burlesque on the beach,
tassels
are glittering against sun-damaged skin
and
distract the men on Steeplechase Pier,
who
bait their hooks with a bloodworm,
swollen
clitella tempts the bluefish that
fill
their pails, fins stack up like poker chips.
It
is 85 degrees in April, the gulls
are
covering the shoal and how odd it is that
a fat brown bottle washed to the shore
a fat brown bottle washed to the shore
is
what we can relate to the most.
Sarah
Watson
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