Quakes, Revolutions
Sophie Klahr
If self-knowledge avails us
nothing. If patient is
synonymous for somnambulist.
If circuses become archaic—
big tops bled away, the air of hay
& sweat, the colored lights gone
gray… If no boy can remember
seeing a woman unearthly in sequins,
on horseback. If milk is cold
in mornings spent alone. If morning
still makes time for quiet milk.
If knowing tucks between the teeth
& cheek—a blade of grass,
a nervous whistle.
[ Sweethearts, I put
Then in a box
for whenever you ready
to face up ]
Sophie Klahr’s poems have appeared in DIAGRAM and Open Thread Regional Review, among others. Her chapbook _______ Versus Recovery is available from Pilot Books. When not writing, she dances.
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