​Sometimes It Helps to Squint, by Christa Fairbrother

The Tree, by Agnes Martin (USA, b. Canada) 1964

​Sometimes It Helps to Squint
 
Our eyes can’t help but be fooled 
by White’s Illusion
grey stripes glued to white,
are brighter than grey stripes flanked
by black.  An Agnes Martin tree trick.
Line after line, we strive
to make mean, mean anything,
anything at all.  I can not tolerate 
just being, wear my buff and navy
Breton shirt to look sophisticated.  
My jalousie windows must open 
onto something greater
than myself.  Pampas grass,
lemongrass, sharp, long blades
of green.  Don’t touch the spaces
between, interstitial danger,
razor-edged as arthritis.  Real life abhors
friction.  The drag of a blade’s
edge against the skin of its neighbour.

Christa Fairbrother

Christa Fairbrother, MA, has had poetry in Arc Poetry, Pleiades, Stoneboat, and others. She’s been a resident with Sundress Academy for the Arts and the Bethany Arts Community.  Currently, she’s Gulfport, Florida’s poet laureate and she’s been a Pushcart Prize nominee.  When her face is not stuffed into a book, she loves tea and avocados.  Connect with her at www.christfairbrotherwrites.com.