Kind of Blue

By Lynn Powell Lynn Powell
Not Delft or   
delphinium, not Wedgewood
among the knickknacks, not wide-eyed chicory   
evangelizing in the devil strip—

But way on down in the moonless   
octave below midnight, honey,
way down where you can't tell cerulean   
from teal.

Not Mason jars of moonshine, not   
waverings of silk, not the long-legged hunger   
of a heron or the peacock's   
iridescent id—

But Delilahs of darkness, darling,
and the muscle of the mind
giving in.

Not sullen snow slumped   
against the garden, not the first instinct of flame,   
not small, stoic ponds, or the cold derangement
of a jealous sea—

But bluer than the lips of Lazarus, baby,   
before Sweet Jesus himself could figure out
what else in the world to do but weep.

Source: Poetry (May 2004).


This poem originally appeared in the May 2004 issue of Poetry magazine

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May 2004
 Lynn  Powell


Lynn Powell's second book of poems, The Zones of Paradise, is just out from the University of Akron Press. Her first book, Old and New Testaments, won the 1995 Brittingham Prize and was published by the University of Wisconsin Press.

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Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Music, Arts & Sciences, Social Commentaries, Popular Culture

Poetic Terms Alliteration, Allusion, Elegy

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