Gina Myers


[Absent refrain, forgotten song…]

Absent refrain, forgotten song. Hush hush now.
Forget the morning its sun. Forget the page
its start. Forget April its rain. Revise the word home.
Revise the idea of a shattered mirror.
Turn your back on all you have, the promise
of a closed fist, the door not fitting its frame.
Forget the bird its nest, the mouse its hole.
Forget the snow & the memory of snow.
Take away the masking tape & the clean edges.
Clear the dust from the corners, turn the pages
back. Forget the song its chorus. Forget the moon
its cow. Forget the house & the cliché of the house.
Forget the cliché of the word cliché.



Or today buying a wooden picture frame

& its refusal to hang flat against the wall.

This doesn’t change anything. The doorframe

solid there, just waiting for someone to pass.

On the other side of the wall: children laughing.

Add this to my list of failures: I have never seen

the tide rise or held a fragile life in my hand.

Never a gentle knife, a knock in the wind.

My magazine rack securing my place in the world.

The shelves of books a sign of the real.

The cup of tea I pour solves nothing.

I make a list of all the things I’d like to break.




All week I’ve been moving in & out of my body.

Mirror-window. Shadow-self. Trick-or-turn.

The light is gone from the window.

& the curtains, the curtains, unmentionable.


Apartment 11

last night’s sidewalk              inappropriate proposition        today new

jeans & thunderstorms      desire                to be somewhere                  away

from rent                          demands           & bills

the united states

postal service              losing

the evening clear & windy      no rain                      only children

running                                  in the halls                 music

from a passing           ice cream truck

my legs tired but I don’t know why              slept late        no coffee        no afternoon

            casual Saturday & Saturday   night                        holding this place

together with scotch tape & stacks

             of books    mint

tea                   the weekend nearly over                  not wanting to face the

photocopier                                     & fax machine

In an attempt to define                                     freedom                   I can only say no 

           no sir

this isn’t it        all circuits are currently busy

avenues                      gridlocked

                                the night won’t             have

my stupid questions                            won’t carry on           this

stupid game                the cat            keeps

the cockroaches away

& the neighborhood             sighs                          tenements

                lean                     on my shoulder

carrying this                 alone     dear walls                please stop

your shaking

a layer of paint        won’t


                                ceiling falling in &

books           out of order

                          I know     the money         in my pocket

                                                                                                     bills & too

little sleep        & so it’s hard                      here & everywhere

so much depends                  on the leak                            in the ceiling

my attention turned     to leisure         beer cans       line the coffee table                 dirt

under my nails                       soon enough

the kids                    will be back in winter coats

the tired cast            still trying                              to make             this

home                           breaking the hinges               finding a new route

missing every pothole

& bargain shopper

past simple home