Spring 2003 • Vol. XXV No. 2 PoetryApril 1, 2003 |

The Spiral Pilgrimage

Rome, October 382 B.C.   I mill around. I spill my thoughts. I spool them up again. I dream of wheelbarrows bearing pyramids of entrails. I set fires: to the damask curtains, to locks of Silla's hair. I cannot eat—I scald my hands, uproot the garden. A dead mouse paralyzes my will. I shred my veils, and collect aphids in a broken conch. I bury that. I retch on emptiness, sadness my sanctum sanctorum. How to go on? How not to? I could drown, am drowning, drenched in dross. Or is this drought? I'm lost: a zero minus its circumference. My thoughts zigzag back and forth from this void to the one beyond. I am lost, lost— barely a gloss on sorrow's map.

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Photo of Maurya Simon
Maurya Simon’s eleventh volume of poems, La Sirena: A Novella in Verse, has recently been published by Cloudbank Books. Her earlier volume, The Wilderness: New and Selected Poems, 1980–2016 (Red Hen Press, 2018), was awarded the 2019 Gold Medal in Poetry by the Independent Book Publishers Association. Simon’s other awards include a Fulbright Senior Research Fellowship (Bangalore, South India), an NEA Fellowship in Poetry, and the Lucille Medwick Memorial Award and Cecil Hemley Memorial Award from the Poetry Society of America. She currently serves as Professor Emerita and Professor of the Graduate Division at the University of California, Riverside, and lives in the Angeles National Forest in Southern California.

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Black Widow

By Maurya Simon

Rome, October 382 B.C.   I mill around. I spill my thoughts. I spool them up again. I dream of wheelbarrows bearing pyramids of entrails. I set fires: to the […]

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