Beth Boettcher

Gathering, Gathering

The wolf crawls out of the girl.
Hungry little bitch licks
the lips of strangers,
bleeds all over
their special occasion dresses,
scrubs the sleep out of her eyes—

nothing will ever get that out.

Her thirst bottoms out
at the top of the glass.
No stupor stops dreams:
all claws
and wool caught in dirty teeth.

Gone soft, tangling hair,
girls curl up by the fire
and wait their turn.

Beth Boettcher's poetry has been featured in nthposition, the Apiary Corporation, Pedestal, Stoneflower, NeoLogue and Agon (from which she received their Creative Writing Award in 1999). Her music journalism has appeared in such publications as the Philadelphia Area Writers Magazine. She currently resides in the Alabama part of Pennsylvania.
previous page     contents     next page



Post a Comment

<< Home