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Before Sleep poem by Lyn Lifshin
SOMETIMES BEFORE SLEEP it’s like tuning into distant stations. Or an SOS alert, indelible as lips or skin. Call it ESP. If I didn’t shudder, your tango moving toward me like a brand, each place your...
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Back to School Dream poem by Lyn Lifshin
THE I GO BACK TO SCHOOL DREAM of course I’m older than the other students. My mother and father, back from under the earth, drive me to the campus. I’m sure I’ll never find my way around. The room is...
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On the Stalled Metro poem by Lyn Lifshin
ON THE STALLED METRO on my way to ballet, wild to dance the voodoo wild blues out of me while he dreams of Audrey Tautou and Javier Bardem. He is forgetting my words, the poems he remembered longer...
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SILK SWIRLS IN THE DANCE STUDIO’S SHADOWS poem
SILK SWIRLS IN THE DANCE STUDIO’S SHADOWS the men, there aren’t enough. So the women wait, wall flowers, Cinderellas pretending it is ok. I think it is humiliating. I did this in high school, my pasted...
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The Way to the Ballroom poem by Lyn Lifshin
THE WAY TO BALLROOM, PRIVATE MONDAY LESSONS to be held. I don’t need a white close- to- strapless dress but the arms of someone who knows what he’s doing. Don’t let Obama’s be a one night dream of...
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Where Will Passion Take You? poem by Lyn Lifshin
WHERE WILL PASSION TAKE YOU? ON THE METRO TO DC. OR THE DREAM FINALLY OF THE MAN I CAN’T HAVE it’s not that I haven’t wanted him, tried at least to hold him in a dream. He has a wife, and then, there’s...
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I CAN BARELY CONCENTRATE poem by Lyn Lifshin
I CAN BARELY CONCENTRATE ON THE STEPS, HIS EYES, HIS LIPS MYSTERIOUS AS THE LIPS OF HORSES there was that poem he says, the one, you know Juarez and the porch. It’s volcanic, it’s a different language....
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THE SICKENING DREAM OF BEING FROZEN poem by Lyn Lifshin
THE SICKENING DREAM OF BEING FROZEN ON THE BLEACHERS, MUCH LIKE A hooker waiting to do what some man requests. It goes back to high school. 7 PM to mid night just sitting, waiting, never guessing...
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SILK SWIRLS IN THE DANCE STUDIO’S SHADOWS poem by Lyn Lifshin
SILK SWIRLS IN THE DANCE STUDIO’S SHADOWS the men, there aren’t enough. So the women wait, wall flowers, Cinderellas pretending it is ok. I think it is humiliating. I did this in high school, my...
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Nightmare poem by Lyn Lifshin
NIGHTMARE THAT WAS WORSE THAN ANY NIGHTMARE DREAM as if the worst thing I could imagine happen and it happened. Right there. I walked into the room and just seeing her I wanted to grab my keys, turn...
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