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Christina Manweller



Postcard, Second Issue

Naming recent reads, you remark
synchronicity, which is a word
I used to dislike
and I agree I distrust
the idea of it but the actuality
feeds me. Your note arriving
today for instance.

Do you remember your picture,
the tree on a rock?
Well I framed it in birch with black mat.

Pion roots grip a boulder
at the crest of a red mesa
and puffs of cloud hover
in blue
pressing down.
Grapes on sale this week
one ninety-nine a pound.
I bought two. Pounds, that is.


What are you selling?
My grapes,
they're rotting on the vine.






I Can't Hear You

Why is it foreigners I go for
translations of translations
shelves and rooms
and a house
full of languages
I can't read
your face choking
out words
incomprehensible.
Mw glosniej.
Przepraszam.





©2009 by Christina Manweller

Christina Manweller is a poet living in Colorado, where she has worked as a waitress, a photographer, a seismologist, a shipping clerk, an art gallery proprietor. She is a shameless poetry junkie.


*The expressions at the end of the poem are in Polish. Mw glosniej means speak louder, and przepraszam means Im sorry.


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