On Being Married to Willem de Kooning You left the figures faceless, Elaine, then dared to title it Home. Their arms disappear into sepia and mustard, earth’s most interior tones. He taught you well, didn’t he, shredding your still lifes until you mastered each peony and chair. If I roamed through your West 21st St. loft, I’d see your brush strokes wheeling, the light of your city poured in. Portraits are pictures girls make, he said, horn blare and leaf dust swirling. Tell me, Elaine, how you claimed the air. I’d see the floor cracking open, your initials tight in a canvas corner and the men you brought to life, Cunningham, Katz, and O’Hara, on their heels against the wall. Tell me, Elaine, how everything is made and unmade. Your hand to the pigment quickened, didn’t it, like a fish into current or a species, radiant and strange, thrashing against it. Sharon Pretti Editor's note: This poem was inspired by the painting, Home, by Elaine de Kooning (USA) 1953. You can view the artwork here. Sharon Pretti lives in San Francisco, California. Her work has appeared in journals including Spillway, Calyx, JAMA, Jet Fuel Review and is forthcoming in Schuylkill Valley Journal. She is also an award-winning haiku poet and a frequent contributor to haiku journals including Modern Haiku and Frogpond. She works as a medical social worker at a large county hospital where she also runs a poetry group for seniors and disabled adults.
0 Comments
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
The Ekphrastic Review
COOKIES/PRIVACY
This website uses marketing and tracking technologies. Opting out of this will opt you out of all cookies, except for those needed to run the website. Note that some products may not work as well without tracking cookies. Opt Out of CookiesJoin us: Facebook and Bluesky
May 2025
|