In all the poems I’ve seen by Maggy, she really seems to explore the emotions, meanings, and memories first – and then lets the poem take whatever form fits these ideas. The result can have surprising twists and a real energy…
you itch to do something because
lying in your bed doesn’t mean anything at all–
we are mirrors.
your hand moves with
mine, in time.
we are all just waiting, waiting waiting
for the sun and
drinking wine on the wet
grass. right now
the air gets crisper and children soak
it in through their fingertips. the wind
stings like words dripping from mouths
with swollen superiority. it hurts like starvation.
dusk is the second unveiling of cloves and
skeleton emptiness. you cry
like a soldier back from war.
i wear a blue dress. your scent is like
rising dough, the smell of summer.
(Painting by T.F. Simon)