Although it’s true
that golden gleams
surround him
and true that every tree
blossoms with a crash
as he goes by
it is a silent seeking
in his eyes that draws her.
She unzips.
A bird coughs.
It rains from a sky of blue.
And a queen wants a love that is pure.
*
Rachel McAlpine
I think of you
and lose my list
of groceries.
I can’t forget
the corners
of your mouth.
*
Rachel McAlpine
A love poem will
debate
inflate
illuminate
exaggerate
negate and dissipate
the love that’s lurking
just below
the poem.
*
Rachel McAlpine
In a personal
ground-level
crisis
a mask may descend.
Take it off.
Then attend
to a child
or a friend.
*
Rachel McAlpine
P.S. I am pretty sure I was in a helicopter over Dusky Sound when I took this photo.
Ecstasy is exhausting.
Happiness is fine.
Rejoice when your pipes hold water.
Be nice to your plumber
rain or shine.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Fortunately
this experience gives you
the experience required
to survive
this experience.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Love is a fine
fat, grounded word
all above board.
Like me. I will not write
a poem for you.
I will not!
*
Rachel McAlpine
My skull is an occupied
sofa. When someone
makes a home in your head—
no room for poems.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Hello? Hello?
After you hang up
your obsolete handpiece
after you go,
comfort noise
swells through the holes.
*
Rachel McAlpine
I made a mistake
at Maths Club
in my youth.
Logarithms, algorithms,
and then the aftermath.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Poems in the wild—Rachel McAlpine 