Dented Memory

Rocks collide inside her skull
souvenirs of Lac des Mille Lacs

music pushes through tweeters and woofers
as blunt and metallic as her lover’s passion

a careless hatchback
answers her throaty call of desire

tosses a handful of stones
at the thrum of his anger

coupled in a slow dance with hillside scrub
uproots thistle, ragweed

mounts a boulder
furrows deeper

shattered bits of windshield bleed
her third eye blind

nerves like Inca bracelets
jangle against her skin

he awaits the rising of the moon
rolls up his sleeves   hits the road

denying lips kiss clods of earth
she pulls weeds from her teeth

Published in Artsforum, Issue Number 16; Summer/Fall 2009

From “Something to Hide” a chapbook of poetry by Valerie Poulin;  finalist for the Shaunt Basmajian Chapbook Award, 2003.