Reading Sappho in a Wine Bar

Today I promised you a poem entitled
“Mowing the Lawn Out of Spite”
in honor of your husband who would
do any job poorly if it might twist

your heart open to him. The wine glasses
are lined up so perfectly. Hard to believe
they might ever be broken, but each one will.
Think of the delicate, the fragile, the weak:

a beetle’s wing, a swing’s slow arc, your very
smallest child. You watched your husband drag
the lawn mower across the backyard, saw
his lips curse it through the window each time

it stalled. If you listened closely you could
hear his voice, the sound of glass cracking
beneath your feet. Or perhaps he was cursing
you, your joy on this first day of spring.

KEETJE KUIPERS

Advertisements
Comments
2 Responses to “Reading Sappho in a Wine Bar”
  1. Lindy Lee says:

    Only one thing more frustrating than a stalled lawnmower and that’s having to pull that damn cord to start it up again– again, again and– again…

  2. Thomas Davis says:

    I keeping coming back to this poem. The center of the poem seems to be, “Hard to believe
    they might ever be broken, but each one will.” This line leads to the last lines that suggest the poet’s husband, frustrated with the lawn mower, a symbol of the suburban lifestyle, “was cursing
    you, your joy on this first day of spring.” “Think of the delicate, the fragile, the weak.” This is quite a poem.

Write. Talk. Tell me everything.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: