Tuesday, August 25, 2009

BITCHCRAFT

A woman I once met
Introduced me to some women
Who gathered
Once weekly
At a Water Street hotel
With their needles
And their thread
Heavy scents and girly gossip
And it all seemed rather I don’t know
Until they started sewing
Up
Each other
Yes, that’s what I said
Together, I mean
In a ring of screaming needle-point
And—that could not be—laughter

Well, I ran so fast
That I even lost my socks
And got a splinter
From the banister
That I still can’t get out

Sometime later
I walked into her
And
Rightly or wrongly
I decided to go stomping back
And put them
In their place

I now go back there
Every Tuesday
And almost enjoy the healing
Quite as much as
I do feeling
That I’ve found
A cloth embrace

by Walter Conley


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1 Comments:

Anonymous quin browne said...

i think i commented to you in an email.

there isn't a wrong word here, a wrong beat, a wrong step.

9:11 AM  

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