To Fluttering Figure by Wassily Kandinsky
When the itches start inside his belly and, quick as lightning, crackle down legs and out arms, flicker into fingers, he sees himself as a hootchie cootchie dancer, every little shiver blooming out his loosey-goosey skin, he’d be a fire working itself across the stage, no one knowing where he came from, just a blaze of color and syncopation. Glory be, his rags are flapping. He cannot sit a bit longer at this desk, tapping out numbers, pinning letters onto paper, putting things in order. He’s a jiver, a jumper, a humming- bird and flea, he could raise folks outa their seats, maybe outa pants ‘n shoes. If he could be free to realize all he is, he knows he could bring joy to the multitude, get the common blood to flow ‘n flower. What this dull world deserves, himself included: carnival sparklers, pulled down off the shelf. Grace Marie Grafton Grace Marie Grafton’s most recent book, Jester, was published by Hip Pocket Press. She is the author of six collections of poetry. Her poems won first prize in the Soul Making contest (PEN women, San Francisco), in the annual Bellingham Review contest, Honorable Mention from Anderbo and Sycamore Review, and have twice been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Poems recently appear in Basalt, Sin Fronteras, The Cortland Review, Canary, CA Quarterly, Askew, Fifth Wednesday Journal, Ambush Review.
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December 2024
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