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PINK Poetry
By Beth Glyss

In the October issue of PINK, Beth Glys profiles four top women poets. Here, read a few of her own works.

When Can I See Your Shetland Ponies,

 

their muzzles twitching, bashful eyes

hidden behind thick forelocks,

like grade school girls, quiet and shy,

solemn behind thick bangs? When

can I wrap their necks in my arms, scratch

the tender spot behind their ears, bask

dreamy in your sun-swept paddock,

where a flock of hens pecks through strands

of hay, where the one you saved scolds—

wings on her hips—if their dish goes

empty? When will you show me the roses

you've bred and tended, your gloved hands

clipping back overgrown sprigs, then

gathering withered blossoms into a bowl?

Balloon Heart

 

For days after the wedding

she left the balloon heart

hanging on her car's antenna.

She liked the way the limp

bubble drooped and bounced

each day becoming emptier,

heavier, less like a celebration.

After three weeks, it snowed.

By then the heart had slid down

until it touched the hood,

and as she drove, the thing,

now frozen, knocked and knocked

like knuckles on a hard wood desk,

like an ice pick chipping away.

 

Three Poems

 

Narcissist #1

 

I'm so amazing I could lick myself.

 

 

Narcissist #2

 

Did you see how well I licked myself?

 

 

Narcissist #3

 

I was so upset. They barely noticed the way I licked myself.