Bobbi Lurie

too much light

I wake

to a late autumn of dark birds

calling me to veer toward

the terrible



this wordless chill

musty scent

the horizon line and the sky’s


My son reads sermons of pain.

I explain his words to him

as we

sit and speak

the scent of urine rising from beautiful steps

safeguarding the ruins

of a changeless future

same bruised body sobbing no longer as in childhood

but made mild by the torment, the lost beauty

and the dutiful who continue to move

in some domestic scene

they have reason for.

I chose instead the love of a child

and hide my face in my son’s shirt

as if flannel can handle

what early isolation brings.

Bobbi Lurie's work, in various media, can be found in issues #8, #9, #10, #11,#12, & #13 of Otoliths. She also did the cover for this issue.

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