July 6, 2018 >

July 6, 2018 >


Two Poems

by Irene Cooper


Mother is a verb

Do be do be do   the be
Binds do to object, see,
So do can’t do the doing—
buzz off, be, we’re busy here
                                 got to

Staunch the oozing scream
Muffle the bellies
Knit the bones to fly true
A score & more to
Do be do be do the job, so be it

Undone don’t do
But to not be subject
is the object
apart from speech is do
& be is only the dream of her

Prop open the noun
with a broom
Free the chickens & shoot
For the tree line, no apples
in the pie, no gods

 

Invasive Species

Felled baby bird
not a metaphor

warmth in a palm
tissue in a purse

little histories of come
weight of a baby

bird in a brown paper
bag     a treat

maybe a sandwich
or the slack of still

feathers articulate
a pink belly & clean feet

 

Irene Cooper’s poems have appeared in the Oregon Poetry Association anthology, Verseweavers, as well as Indolent Books’ anthology, Poems in the Aftermath, the online project, What Rough Beast, and The Feminist Wire. She writes freelance copy, comic thrillers, and the odd blog, and co-edits The Stay Project.