KAREN CORCORAN DABKOWSKI

The Poetry Of..
Karen Corcoran......................................................
Dabkowski.......................................................

First Light

This is
the Miser
Hour- sun
poached soft
as a horse
at a trough.

Drink
slowly.

This is
the fetal hour curled
trusting
everything is plumb
before
the run on day
with
its push to slant
while the dawn stands upright
in the sky: eyes
opened
fully
cannot fail
before rage
of green
colliding
with events puts an end to it
to leave us
breathless-

struck

by the weight of
where'd it go.

Magnet People

Here's the way
it works: write
about,
say, sad-

One day

it was
gone

and fill in here
lover father wife

season

beloved dog

and then
just
watch
how they come down
to fill
their

canteens

on that kind of
misery. Now do this: a separate placement
for a perfect
wine
in a roguish, red bent
spine
had Elephant
Man

and when he spoke,
the clouds clapped soft
together

and watch them
run,

repelled.

Bite The Day

There's a funny poster
says some days
it's hardly worth
gnawing
through
the straps-

and it makes me laugh

until I
realize
we all do this
each morning: each
set of
tired teeth

trying.

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