In Church
In my dream, I sat
against the altar rail,
my naked haunches spread, as the church
where I knelt as a child bloomed
around me, a place of pleasure where
light fell on cloth of gold, on
incense motes, ancient chants.
There I sat, riding my haunches,
gardenias in a bowl by my hand,
eager to preach a passion sermon and
rub the fragrant petals to myself,
when suddenly, my young mother
stared from the front pew,
a killing prohibition in her eyes.
Anne
Kaier's poetry has been published in Philadelphia Poets, The Bucks County
Writer, The Schuylkill Valley Journal of the Arts, American Writing, Sinister
Wisdom, HLFQ and online at the Drexel Online Journal. She participated
in The Kenyon Review Writers Workshop and the Philadelphia Fringe Festival
and has been a Featured Poet at the Free Library of Philadelphia. She
teaches literature and creative writing at The University of Pennsylvania
Writer's Conference; Rosemont College; Arcadia University; and Penn State,
Abington. You can write to Anne at annekaier@verizon.net
Cameo
A glittering girl, my mother,
diamond rich.
I live in her voracious light.
When she dies, her jewels will come to me,
a daughter's inheritance:
emerald ring, diamond spray,
golden leaf.
What happens to jewels like these?
They will rest in the vault till Victoria
claims them.
They would scorch my hands,
burn my breast.