LIZ WALDNER

The Ballad of Barding Gaol


Up here where birds are, decisions are harder.
An habitation of dragons, a court for owls & an empty larder.

The past is dark as the air and my heart, lo, dark.
A box that smiles to show her teeth fold in like sharks'.

We make a ladder of our vices if we trample them under feet.
Ascend articulate history: now change your sheets with her, not me.

What kind of life does she have with a haircut like that?
I'm impressed by the efforts with knife & hat.

Dejected on the river barge, key lost, shoes far.
Days perfect for Bananafish tell where all Wheres are.

Here proper names erode; you snood, me scree, holy rood.
The dragon's wings, his moody food

is me. Here's where first I saw your face
and your hips did move with their animal grace

(let long ago Bowie sing here on in) and here I'm alone
in a rain of green in a building of stone

where all I want is to be held,
(her song of darkness and disgrace)

however hard,
in place.


A poem by Barbara GuestBack to the 89th Annual PSA Award WinnersA poem by Diann Blakely