Jules Gibbs
The street below is a stage of awninged shops
you are seven small volcanoes
maze of wrought iron, recess, treachery of fire escapes
an earthquake to excite still water —
give it to me— your ineffable song
put it in my mouth; ignite the fuse
sirens wail in lamentation over gray rooftops
of no protection, no protection
in false rooms where we exchange reckless gifts
everything awaits release, departure, disarray, ruse
not ours to give: hunk of earth, wedge of sky
sing of the long, winding moan that trails us everywhere
because you listen for the sea in me, I swell with all I am not —
arc of this imperfect thought
poured out lifetime of slow-gathered earth
sing of a flawed desire to explode
Jules Gibbs lives in Syracuse, NY, where she teaches poetry at the Downtown Writers Center, and to children in city public schools. She earned an MFA in Poetry in 2006, and was awarded a fellowship from the Ucross Foundation in 2007. She’s published her poems in many literary journals, and is currently working on her first manuscript.