3 poems by Hannah Ensor

Marriage

 

A man and a woman stretch in a courtyard. They are both

very complicated. I am looking at a photograph of them.

You are too. You point out to me that it’s not a man

 

and a woman, but that one of them is a young dolphin.

You point, and I see what you mean. I say, “Thank you,”

and think, “That one isn’t even a woman: it’s a goat.”

 

I can’t believe you didn’t notice. There are four shadows

on the wall where I hung the photograph. The shadow

that overlaps with the picture frame moves

 

in a way I don’t notice. Even when this day is over

and the shadow is gone we will still be in Detroit. And so will

the photograph. In which the goat helps the child dolphin stretch.

 

You and I look at the photograph for a minute.  I say something

to you that you like. Then we’re doing something else. I love you.

 

 

Drawing Lesson: Wildflower

 

I am drawing a wildflower.

 

It is greedy and selfish, this wildflower.

 

I am drawing a wildflower and I need

no instruction.

 

Though I need no instruction I accept it eagerly.

 

I am wild. No,

I am feral. No,

I am newly domesticated

 

to your kindnesses.

 

Greedy and selfish flowers

have blue veins:

 

greedy blue selfish veins.

 

I am an autodidact.

A wild blue autodidact.

 

 

Spinster Wishes

 

I wish I lived in a big old lonely house

 

chalky dog statue, its musculature & staring like a tea bag

cat on my head, head of my chair, chair where I sit

 

I want to live in a lonely house

 

very quiet and lonely here! sister you can come visit.

 

 

 

Hannah Ensor is from Ann Arbor, Michigan. She received her MFA in poetry from the University of Arizona in May 2013, and makes noise-pop tentacular deep-ocean fun-sounds with John Melillo as the band Algae & Tentacles. Hannah also serves on the board of directors of Casa Libre en la Solana, a literary arts nonprofit in Tucson, Arizona.