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Please check out my review of Kimberly Lyons’ Saline
in the new issue of Galatea Resurrects
Kimberly Lyons’ Fleeting Continuum
The problem (and pleasure) of reviewing a book of poetry by Kimberly Lyons is that a review needs to generalize to an extent, yet my temptation is to pause at the details in the language, to become wrapped up in close readings of the images that flow in a continually morphing reverie . . . [click here to read the review]
from Abracadabra by Kimberly Lyons
New York: Granary Books, 2000.
The Concise History of Painting
The cones and cubes of an ideal town
rise across the lake
of brown-rumpled water
perfumed by egrets
and moths. And I fell asleep
briefly yesterday by the file cabinet
and had a dream, like a spasm.
Masses of clouds move sternly over
I suck on my violet duck.
I hit my spoon with the floor.
Call out to the
shadow of a saint
who has fallen under his horse
We watch together
black collide with white.
This is not the night
falling around snow
or a mailbox swallowing
frozen dark air around ice cubes
the white sink caps
wet black pantyhose
like a lake seen
small window of a train.
The window of a face
big kosher salt in a small black pan