poem for the end of winter
I’m giving you CPR but my lungs are full of doves!
Now your lungs are full of doves & spectators are
beginning to suspect I don’t know what I’m doing!
But suddenly you’re singing like you’ve got doves
in your lungs & the audience are lapping it up! &
clamour to congratulate you on the performance
of a lifetime! & one girl even faints! & you’re giving
her CPR! but your lungs! are both! so full! of doves!
Maya Owen is perpetually curious, and fond of reading books in comfortable trees. Her work has been published in Fur-Lined Ghettos, WHAT KIND OF TROUBLE?, Cyberhex Journal, The Electronic Encyclopedia of Experimental Literature, and Leveler.
