where the writers are

maura Ennenga's Writings

Poem
Nov.28.2010
cataract, lens, forgetting
Is this what its like a camera lens of forgetting the memory like a milky catarac clear one moment cloudy the next searching with a feeble hand to ply the object in front of you seems like your on a tightwire rope or drunk stepping off the curb you go for the object, assure its light but the wrist bats air and the object seems to have houdini'd itself into...
Poem
Nov.25.2010
heart, smooth
of late, i see the sketch in my mind the heart drawn askew with a string wrapped around it its my heart, and i see no broken line drawn no more heart broken in two or three pieces my heart sketched out lopsided, with crevices and creaks and bends and bows now its angling to make the rough hewn edges smooth and quiet subtle and slow breathing in and out in and...
Poem
Nov.03.2010
In transition my body folds like an old linen to be put away in a closet stained and sturdy worth keeping for a little while longer in transition i roll like a marble across the floor loudly quickly in transition nothing is waiting for me, i keep it solid and clean in tranistion beads of sweat appear above the lip, breast loose their umph, and my ass is as big...
Poem
Oct.21.2010
Truth, birds, dignity
I remember the cat pounching on the bird, chasing it away. The bird lay close eyed on the driveway a hot and humid summer day. Laying down face to face , I noticed the shallowness of its small breath. Its gasping in a dignified way to let its windpowered sails die, humbling itself to the ground... I remember my GrandMother's Large forehead, her enormous head...
Poem
Sep.21.2010
If I end up alone let me be near the maples and oaks right at home for the leaves they grow will make a lovely cape and keep me warm let me know the paths to take, allowing me to make way for the wandering days of nothing if i want to bark like a dog or roll in the dirt certainly let me a perogative for me, an arrest for you let me taste the tips of the maples...
Poem
Aug.12.2010
  ITs HOT and Humid, Still and quiet, even the stereo speakers on the tourists steroes are muffled from the heat. Steely Heat. ITs the kind of HOT where your ass or back of your thigh sticks to the car seat, that is the kind of HOT it is! Humid, drips underneath your arms.falling on to your sides, drip..drip and you become acutely aware that your out in...
Poem
Aug.12.2010
  ITs HOT and Humid, Still and quiet, even the stereo speakers on the tourists steroes are muffled from the heat. Steely Heat. ITs the kind of HOT where your ass or back of your thigh sticks to the car seat, that is the kind of HOT it is! Humid, drips underneath your arms.falling on to your sides, drip..drip and you become acutely aware that your out in...
Poem
Jul.03.2010
    afternoon of the fourth, swishing pines along the shifting lights of summer afternoon.  today, fall sent its rsvp. my soul shifted, and my emotion rose to the top. was it the slanting light on the ole white pine, the loud angry bluejay yearning for the winds that carry him through to the maples and strewn corn cobbs that early fall encompassess....