Katie Kenney
Poetry
Have you seen it?
My gown of blankets
never leaving this house, its
decadent shelves sick with
stories of shipwrecks of gardens
dressed in tulips, green scaled
creatures with smoked eyes
the lemon cake risen to Coltrane
to the snow at noon’s knees
mortal rays of living of only
getting to be so alone never
more feasible more fanciful
more bugless or without leaves
preparing inquisitions to fogged
windows to the boxed set
DVDs, a day made mittened,
faces lion maned and popsicled
a neighborhood swept in salt,
looking out to all glint and glitter
