Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Two Poems by Kevin Heaton

Black Widow

Behind bamboo curtains: Trappings,
stacked metaphors, special effects.

Pubic illusions in cherry blossoms indenture
to what seems. A leggy web-lass displays

her motif; splayed in pleasure quarters, veiled
beneath a soup├žon of pollen. A mime. A single

dancer. Appendages so lithe as to assuage
the trepidations of a more tenuous inquisitor.

Supple bindings heighten. A tiger swallowtail
crosses the eyes of a panther.

Her suitor whirls, silken. Pulsing, nonplused.
Tailored to her inducement without antidote.

A spun chrysalis stitched to a lotus thorn—
still courting hopes of dying softly.



A Mother Penguin’s Lament

what was has no meaning—
only if forgotten

I recall your pall reflection,
& parting plea song—

a two-edged stone knife
in dying snow, then hold

my feet to the ice—
where I warmed you.





Pushcart Prize nominee Kevin Heaton writes in South Carolina. His work has appeared in a number of publications including: Raleigh Review, Mason's Road, Foundling Review, The Honey Land Review, and elimae. His fourth chapbook of poetry, Chronicles, has just been released by Finishing Line Press. He is a 2011 Best of the Net nominee.

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