Reb Livingston, “Rare Hawk Evident”

Hawk yes, freeway lifted flock
thick in soup, all apology
following white wiseacres.
Hawk maybe not.
Hawk faint on air.
Hawk die on beige.
Cougars run the turnip fields,
eating seed catalogues,

banking in pants,
barking barnstormers,
what we call authorized curiosities.
She keeps a journal of Hawaiians,
there were notable leis.
Wet rub, dry rub,
the last of the yellow cake
happy blondness
breathless beige.

Hawk not so notch.
She found her pygmy gabba aphrodisiac
because she is alone.

From Your Ten Favorite Words. Reb Livingston is a friend from way back; she’s previously written about her poet’s crush on Amy Gerstler for Beatrice. With Molly Arden, she’s edited two anthologies of poetry culled from the online journal No Tell Motel. Her poem “That’s Not Butter” was included in 2006’s Best American Poetry anthology, and From the Fishouse has audio of Reb reading several poems.

3 February 2008 | poetry |