Two Poems
Poetry by:
RACHEL STONE
F41.1
and what a marriage
we know nothing of it
bette midler tweeted this
after prince philip died
ridiculous thing to tweet
or think, maybe true that
we know nothing of it
allegedly, though I think
no marriage can exist
and leave no trace, see:
my love of dragging
myself on my knees,
wanting for a clasped
hand, a man who will
turn any knife
I hand him. we had it all
figured out. us four
on a boat, lashed
against the black, cold
sea. what a shock then
to find it written on me.
I placed a few lilac stalks
in a wine bottle, so beautiful
to watch them wilt and blow
weeks later scanned inside the
dark glass to find the stems
thick with mold, white and
woolen, fuzz of pale lanugo.
Complaint
between me and the reason I exist, there is a gun. if I am ever
happy to be alive, I must thank it. we know this rule: a third
act, and the one to do the acting. not me though. someone
has to go through the motions of a good life,
pulling corn silk from the drain. years later
she’s crying, calls me to say it
(if you didn’t pick up,
she says, who knows what might)
it’s wrong to make promises I don’t mean to keep
said chekhov and his gun was right
where he left it. on the phone
the feeling was less of fear but recognition:
here. here it is. it’s been here the whole time.
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Bio:
Rachel Stone is a writer and reporter from Chicago. Her work has been published in BOMB Magazine, the Brooklyn Rail, and other publications.More From This Issue...
NEW YORK, NEW YORK
EST 2020
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© THE QUARTERLESS REVIEW ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
EST 2020
︎
© THE QUARTERLESS REVIEW ALL RIGHTS RESERVED