ISSN

1543-6063

 
  DIANE WALD


 
 

WONDERBENDER

this one’s too pale that’s too dark

we are discussing shades of yellow when you say please
stop saying you’re sorry all the time and i say i’m sorry i don’t usually
do that at all with other people but you you take things so hard and you say
if that’s true it’s my problem
if that’s true

i have a strange antipathy to chlorinated smells

circumference means you must go all the way around

tuesday morning for the first time we saw the foxes
two of them trotting like tiny thoroughbred horses around the garden in the small snow
then fading back into the woods
we watched from your study—i with a mouthful of mouthwash waiting
to spit into the sink before i could say thank you thank you
for calling me

we had never seen the foxes before
not in this yard

the woodchucks are common, coyotes sometimes always the raccoons
and lots and lots of birds even wood-ducks
but never the foxes before tuesday no never

this will not mean much to you if you cannot put yourself in my shoes
or in my place with the mouthwash i should say
this will not mean much if you cannot understand fox-beauty or fox-light
or the secondary but also sharp joy later on in the day
of seeing their perfect pawprints near the newly transplanted star magnolia

something will grow in those pawprints in the spring

i have just read for the second time (though the first time i was small) black
beauty
and would like to write such a book

i write in first person because i am in first person

just like black beauty

in your voice on the recorded message there was a pale green jacket with a black lapel

in some senses it was a little off-the-shoulder
proving that you could change

i had not heard it the first time
but now it is a comfort

a tall man told my husband that he had called and checked out my story with a psychic
about his cat and it was true
in fact so many of my comments had been validated he could not remember all the details just then
the cat did not want to be just a tenant any more
she wanted to be part of the family
my husband forgot to tell me this right away
but when he did i was overjoyed

last night at the restaurant there were four of us and shiraz and lebanese food
delicious lentils
artichokes in tutus
and we had a nice time and then afterwards three of us went to the restroom
and i stayed behind to put on my coat
a man called my name from another table as i was walking out DIANE he said in a loud voice
i turned around
it was someone i’d known years ago in fact someone i’d championed in a way and he’d
always been grateful
he was all smiley he had grown a beard
and a large stomach
we shook hands
he was sitting at a large round table with perhaps eight other people and he began to introduce me around
his wife acknowledged me but the others did not seem interested
and yet this man was very happy to see me and it was a small but confusing boost
in an evening of sometimes confusing blackened lentils

the lentils weren’t confusing exactly it was the conversation
but only at times
only in ways i can trace back to my childhood
when i began to hone an impending sense of something about to go wrong
with the air between parents
or not between parents exactly but between one of them at least
and the world

so i carry this seventh sense
in my bookbag
i carry this sense even without a bookbag it is tattooed on me
in the shape of a crocodile
right between my breasts
sometimes i put makeup over it
or hang a cloisonne pendant with a crocodile on it
just there

your desperation is kingpin
has gotten you nowhere
is the reason for oil-soaked shirts that will not wash clean
specks of white calcite on the green back stairs

it’s still dark so you can still speak
the dark soft light has crept into the garage
the car is waiting in its innocent darkness
to carry you anywhere anywhere

this is the circumference not the diameter
i could explain it to you pretty well if you like by demonstrating with my hat

i am starting this month a day early
february
this is necessary because in january
i fell asleep at the most important part

i needed to go all the way the long way around

i tried to buy something made of titanium
but the mines were out of stock
i bought something made of organza
and watched a movie about asteroids which destroyed the earth by virtue
of their superior speed and beauty

organza

dental x-rays showing fields of swollen
wildflowers blue
chicory cornflower
in my mouth
much to the dentist’s surprise
or at least he pretended

wonder is bent at various times
quickly
and often invisibly
you don’t realize till later

it has hurt you

it has hurt you by omission by blocking out
the wonder the laughter the
amaze

over something so tiny it can hardly be real
like the miniature monkeys so small when they are born
they’re smaller than your thumb

i have seen pictures!

speaking of monkeys the one in the beginning of the lady from shanghai
somehow saddened me
leaping about on a string
love perhaps but a bound love
a little grey shirt and a teacup thimble-sized
and overall in any case i have to say i did not like
that lady from shanghai

wonder when you lay there in that bed
all but dying
it was as if something else possessed you—it wasn’t
not-you
but you made sounds as if you had to go on
there was nothing i hadn’t told you—it wasn’t that kind of sad
it was as if something that tied my arm to my body was thinning to a thread
and i knew i would soon be a one-armed woman
for the rest of my life

the miracles of wonder in that long-ago yard with no foxes but deer
small rabbits under the lawnchairs
bright orange and yellow nasturtium complete with ants
thick pears white dogwood johnny-jump-ups in the grass
a few stars replicated in birdsong dogbark kittensigh
your face as a child and wrapping your bee-stung neck in a white t-shirt
drenched in the dragonfly stream

did it help you?

i am sure now that there is no shame in being this way and that no one should deny it
and yet there were many moments even with wonder
when i was ashamed

i ate white crackers with no nutrition whatsoever
perhaps like communion wafers
i offered white wonder in the cup of my two small hands
right up to the stars
i wrote about your headband of pain the stars like a hairnet around your suffering

blue all blue
and as crystalline as the night the wonder kissed me

please love me i knew you would come along
sometime
it just took me a long time to find you i thought you were someone else

but you look just like me
you look just like me
you look just like me

 


 

Diane Wald was born in Paterson, NJ, and has lived in Massachusetts since 1972. She holds an M.F.A. from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. She has published over 225 poems in literary magazines since 1966. She was the recipient of a two-year fellowship in poetry from the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown and has been awarded the Grolier Poetry Prize, The Denny Award, and The Open Voice Award. She also received a state grant from the Artists Foundation (Massachusetts Council on the Arts). She has published three chapbooks (Target of Roses from Grande Ronde Press, My Hat That Was Dreaming from White Fields Press, and Double Mirror from Runaway Spoon Press) and won the Green Lake Chapbook Award from Owl Creek Press. An electronic chapbook (Improvisations on Titles of Works by Jean Dubuffet) appears on the Mudlark website. She received the first annual Anne Halley Poetry Prize from the Massachusetts Review. Her book Lucid Suitcase was published by Red Hen Press in 1999 and her book, The Yellow Hotel, was published by Verse Press in the fall of 2002. Wonderbender , seen here, is the title poem of a new manuscript. A chapbook, faustinetta, gegenschein, trapunto is forthcoming from Cervena Barva Press. She works for animal welfare at the Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.



 






 

 

 

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