Two Poems

Sara Wintz

Strange, when she,
Everyone: “Their hair,
their faces, their hands, their arms,
their necks: all luminous.”
“Their dresses, their underclothes,
even the corsets of the dial painters
were luminous.” “One showed luminous spots.”
“Another was luminous almost to the waist!”
I’m busy,
always on the move,
up early in the morning,
late to bed at night.

children take turns,
One does homework:
“My vocabulary grows a gardens!”
“I learned new ones: ’10 billion,’
“2.5 trillion” new ones!”
“I look forward to retiring when I am 95…
and I felt for her deep within my hard drive.
my father boards an airplane after having worked
a dark and stormy night.”
What I do that is for him, my consideration:
I vex und begrudge, Paper.
Seeing her body glow in the mirror:
“so, things will get better…!”
It provoked the ‘martyrs’ of science to wonder.
“When really, I jump after dark,”
she said, “I” “stray”.