M.S. Rooney

listen,

 

these days dyed deep dark purple
cannot last forever for we know even
these black broadcloth curtains here
have leached to rust and we know
robin’s egg skies frothed
with rich white creamy clouds
are now appearing somewhere and
i know this has no meaning now
and that the reverse of course is true
but this is what you once told me
and dammit i found it true
when all of me wanted
to prove you dead wrong

 

 

Oh, my little doppelgänger,

 

locked in your room
under a gray sky
building word bombs
to blast the past
to smithereens
when you know
and only all too well that
only that oldest, hackneyed,
universal solvent of the heart
can wipe it clean, and, oh,
what will you fill
those burnt and ragged
vacant craters with? What
would call it home?

 

ROONEY

 

M.S. Rooney lives in Sonoma, California with her husband, poet Dan Noreen. Her work appears in journals, including BLUESTEM, THE CORTLAND REVIEW, MAIN STREET RAG, THEODATE,and 3:AM MAGAZINE, and anthologies, including AMERICAN SOCIETY: WHAT POETS SEE, edited by David Chorlton and Robert S. King. Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. ‘Miss Truffles, Muse,’ provided active collaboration on these poems.

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