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a poem by Ann Howells

Reading Simic's "errata"

Though the poem says snow,
read rumpled counterpane.
And, when it mentions police whistle
think American in Paris, think
Gene Kelly and Leslie Caron,
Gershwin's perfect score.
Remove all references to science,
to religion, to produce;
these words carry a different theme.
Where it says scars read stirring;
where it says stirring read
silken warmth of skin. Blind
is always and incontrovertibly
blind, but we've no time
to misremember subtleties
mailed from foreign shores.
Press words, gently, to my lips;
whisper moist syllables
I fold my ears to secure. And,
where it says shouted read
split me open, a ripe pomegranate --
spill of tough fiber, glistening seed.

© by Ann Howells
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #30 ~ April 2014