Issue 23
Fall 2020
A way to wait away the news
Genevieve Kaplan
I thought to shelve, I thought to put away, to notice and to ask for
and observe. I’m most of the time usually fine
with others talking
like that, and keeping up with their pleasures or certain
inferiorities. Here, I was able to muster hardly any
of that original interest, that gusto, hoping just one usage
would be mine, another manner would be mine, and I’d answer
like a metronome no matter the cause, no matter
the question.
When others begin to determine my time and imply where
I’d go from there I try keeping each word
near: astound, iron, peacock,
lentil, until I’ve lost them
or found another, I’ve found another. The language tells
a secret of my neighborhood. In that moment,
believing tender and text and what about
truth, I was awry, it turned
out, with understanding.
About the Author
Genevieve Kaplan is the author of (aviary) (Veliz Books, 2020), In the ice house (Red Hen Press, 2011), and three chapbooks. Her recent poems can be found in Faultline, Oversound, can we have our ball back?, Poetry, and other journals. A new chapbook, I exit the hallway and turn right, is forthcoming from above/ground press. A poet, scholar, book-maker, and fiber artist, Genevieve edits the Toad Press International chapbook series, publishing contemporary translations of poetry and prose. She lives in southern California.