While the man is away
telling his wife
about the red-corseted woman,
the woman waits
on the queen-sized bed.
You'd expect her quiet
in the fist of a copper
statue. Half her face,
a shade of golden meringue,
the other half, the dark
of cattails. Her mouth even—
too straight, as if she doubted
her made decision, the way
women do. In her hands,
a yellow letter creased,
like her hunched back.
Her dress limp on a green chair.
In front, a man's satchel
and briefcase. On a dresser,
a hat with a ceylon
feather. That is all
the artist left us with,
knowing we would turn
the woman's stone into ours,
a thirst for the self
in everything—even
in the sweet chinks
of mandarin.
Source: Poetry (September 2004).
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Poet
Victoria Chang
b. 1970
POET’S REGION
U.S., Western
Subjects
Living,
Marriage & Companionship,
Painting & Sculpture,
Relationships,
Arts & Sciences,
Men & Women
Poetic Terms
Free Verse,
Simile,
Ekphrasis