Aubade

By Rick Barot b. 1969 Rick Barot

Scintillas of the anatomical

on the vines, buds opening—

make me a figure

for the woken.

On the vines, buds opening—

blue, little throats.

For the woken,

this different tin sky.

Blue, little throats

speak to me in the right voice.

This different tin sky,

the playground thawing.

Speak to me in the right voice,

only clean, sweeter.

The playground thawing

into its primary colors.

Only clean, sweeter,

briary as honeysuckle,

into their primary colors

the words come: bitter, astral.

Briar—as honeysuckle,

as attic webs, constellated

into their primary colors.

White, or whiter.

The words comes: bitter, astral.

Make me a figure,

blue little throats,

scintillas of the anatomical.

Source: The Darker Fall (Sarabande Books, 2002)

Biography

Rick Barot was born in the Philippines and grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area. He attended Wesleyan University, the Iowa Writers' Workshop, and Stanford University, where he was a Stegner Fellow in Poetry and later a Jones Lecturer in Poetry.

Barot’s first collection of poetry, The Darker Fall (2002), received the Kathryn A. Morton Prize in Poetry. His second collection, Want (2008), was a finalist for the Lambda Literary . . .

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