Sophie Klahr is the author of Meet Me Here At Dawn (YesYes Books, forthcoming 2016), and the chapbook _____Versus Recovery (Pilot Books). Her poetry, essays, and reviews have been featured in Ploughshares, The Rumpus, Gulf Coast, Ninth Letter, and elsewhere. She serves as a contributing editor for Gigantic Sequins, and co-edits Teen Sequins. She resides in Los Angeles.
“I ONCE SAW A PIMP WHO HAD A HARD-ON WHILE WRITING TO HIS GIRL PLACE HIS HEAVY COCK ON THE PAPER AND TRACE ITS CONTOURS”
I still have somewhere the outline
you traced of your cock. It was the exact size
of my throat, some fraction of the plank
I pushed aside when young,
to slip into the neighbor’s yard, another
kind of paradise. I knew it
as I know my mouth,
crossed into the room of knowing it,
drawn in by a line you read aloud
concerning a field and what happened
in the field. Beyond the fence was
a tongue of uncut grass I could lie in,
my body’s first breaking and entering.
I told my hands, Go, muscles,
Go, and pushed aside the plank
where it hung by a single nail
and opened my mouth
to all the trouble to come.
text : a bride wading into a pool (white bodice
laces trail the surface)
text : the desert outside your motel room
text : the pool beneath the window
text : thorns that found your arm
pronouncing your blood in two lines
there is no glossary not for this
no one teaches us to breathe deeply
then one day there is a doctor and you are half-dressed
breathe deeply he says,
and touches a cold metal spot to your back
is this all breathing is?
now cough he says
is this all ?
just thorns doing, you said, what thorns do