Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Three poems by Abigail Beaudelle


Three poems
by Abigal Beaudelle

One-Armed boy

He stood there,
weight shifted to one side,
leaning on the pony-wall
in line at Taco Bell -

feet planted in a cool-guy
trapezoid.

One hand
dangled,
gripping
a fast food cup
by the lid -
fingers spread

around the straw
as if cradling
a cigarette.

And shifting,
soccer cleats clipping
linoleum,
the arm obscured
by profile is

revealed -
red
perforated
soccer jersey
peeling back
like theater curtains -
one-third and
curtailed,

button hand tucked

into an elastic elbow.

++++++++++++++++++++

The Fire at Deyrolle

A short-circuit spark
caught the House of the Beasts
Without Synapses
off guard.

Tiger-turned-panther
stood transfixed
by the dance
of Shiva
in Paris.

The lions gaped;
in heat -
the whole pride slouched.
Tickled and pulled
like taffy -
a persistent
memoir to Dali
and Isaac Newton.

A little lamb's
glass eye
framed the polar
bear's streaked hide,
mid-stride
in the parlor,
with the peeling paper
and the
screaming smoke detector.

The thermals caught
the hawk on the updraft
and embers inhaled the moths.

But the parrot survived
the fall of the Stagnant Menagerie.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Libby

You exhale a poisonous mix
of

chlorine gas
and disinformation -

leaving a trail of dead
artsy chicks
in your wake.

Wouldn't take you
for a
spiteful bitch
just by looking at you.

You even make your own jewelry.

Abigail Beaudelle, 16, has been writing poetry for two years now, and is slowly beginning to gain recognition in the small press world. Her work has been published in the 56th issue of Gloom Cupboard and will be included in the upcoming issues of Off Beat Pulp, Kill Poet, and Fissure. A member of Mensa, Abigail spends the majority of her time fencing, playing guitar, and working on her ezine The Poetry Warrior. The debut issue of The Poetry Warrior was published on October 1st, 2008.

1 comment:

Joy Leftow said...

love the last one with the spiteful bitch, watch out Abigail, there's lots of those around. Wish I could avoid them like cracks in the pavement.