Poetry

Poem – Grisly Work

By Madeleine Higgins The artiste, with a trembling hand,Drowns pencil-shapes with paint,Twitching at the loss of that rough-draft promise.Once finished, she isn’t quite—Is that cloud shaped to petty satisfaction?Couldn’t that red be more yellow?She trims and blots and razes untilA simmering sunset becomes an entirely different beast.Just as a chicken goes from corpseTo table-topper under …

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