Winter 2009 • Vol. XXXI No. 1 New VoicesJanuary 1, 2009 |

New

The patient: "He greeted her several timesAs if she had just arrived." I identified.It is indeed a gift—both maddening andAwful—to be seen as Always new,To evoke exactlyThe same astonishmentAt eleven and at noon—the joy disease— "It is you! I shall have lunchWith you"—on the stairs—"You live here too!" To be unwrappedAs if I'd just been sent Express; to be told, he has never seenSuch perfect breasts when they were with usThis morning; but where was he?Was he? As if, were he to lift His eyes from our bed,I would dissipate.I have one loveWho cannot remember me From hour to hour, forIf he did,How could heRemain pleased? We are always dancing eye to eyeAnd he is always blinkingJust before the gaze grows old— And then shining With astonishmentThat I am therel In arms. Where as IHave never closed my eyes. Once.That I recall. And I am anciently old.

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Kascha Semonovitch writes and sometimes teaches philosophy in Seattle. She has a doctorate in philosophy from Boston College and an MFA in poetry from Warren Wilson College and a great deal of undocumented experience in motherhood, love, and travel. Her poems have appeared in Southern Review, The Kenyon Review, Crab Creek Review, and other journals.

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By Kascha Semonovitch

The patient: "He greeted her several timesAs if she had just arrived." I identified.It is indeed a gift—both maddening andAwful—to be seen as Always new,To evoke exactlyThe same astonishmentAt eleven […]

Trio

By Kascha Semonovitch

The patient: "He greeted her several timesAs if she had just arrived." I identified.It is indeed a gift—both maddening andAwful—to be seen as Always new,To evoke exactlyThe same astonishmentAt eleven […]

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