Jennifer Dannenberg
Four Postcard Poems
Feb 8
Correction implies change
as in dept. or
golf swing
fluid
(would be so kind as to)
compliance
and so on
in private
to save face
Feb 11
the sky is divided in two
down by the railroad tracks a
man in a white t shirt crosses
I’ve seen that before, the way
his leg moves high and wide
his foot lost in the green grass
Feb 13
the girl we were is you now and
madly living in present
swinging him high in arms battling bills
shaving cents from hospital collectors
packing flu bugs in jars
picking lint off the wooly blue coat
sometimes in winter water beads
on the window and morning coffee
too black to see into is warm enough
to drink
Feb 18
Of all this most overwhelming
smelling roses and the
spring is
evaluating
someone who looks like you
at the end
waiting to be inside the
Rothko
