Rebecca Loudon

( Seattle, Washington )

from BFR, Summer 2004



She lives now with stutters & whores
just as her grandfather predicted,
	[fire eater, human blockhead, bed of nails]

watches the neighbor's window dim
or festive at dusk, drinks a bit more wine
each day, empties the bottle by six,
speaks her father's language the closer
she gets to affection, to drunk,
	[appellation d'origine, cru classé, vin de pays]

finds owls in the cupboard or gripping
the towel rack in the bathroom, asks
them to leave, uses a polite voice, open
vowels. Her chair scoots three inches to the left
every night & bites her wrist when she sits
	[blind bite, jewel line, torn cloud]

thinking earthquake, the floor thumping up
like a fist and she shivers, gold and red,
folded into herself, belly full
of hummingbirds.

Next - Marty McConnell

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