Poetry Breakfast

Fractured Peonies

I became
black beans boiling
in a witch’s kettle
on an open fire

I became
nautilus swirling inward
bird as fish in the sky

when he said he loved my body
implying but not me

Cadaver

My eyes are screaming.
I have cadaver bone in my mouth.
I’m picking up signals…
radar to the ether world.
I can’t floss without disturbing
memories I never had.
My mouth aches for what it needs.
I taste earthworms and fog.
Molecules from death promote growth.
I am beside myself in awe
that I’m a bit someone else
and death lives inside me.

About the Poet:
Belinda Subraman has been writing poetry since the 6th grade and publishing since college. She had a ten year run editing and publishing Gypsy Literary Magazine. Six of those ten years was from Germany where she was a Bohemian outcast among officer wives. She edited books by Vergin’ Press, among them: Henry Miller and My Big Sur Days by Judson Crews. While in Germany she also published Sanctuary Tape Series which was a mastered compilation of audio poetry and original music from around the world.

Photo by Marco Massimo.

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