Love Song in E
Nicole Zdeb
"Seated female nude" by Auguste Rodin. Graphite, watercolor, and gouache, 19 5/8 x 12 3/4 in. 1900–1910. Open source from The Met
|
Twenty three when they meet. She’s centered, wears a gem sweater. Feels very Zen. They lean,
leg presses leg. Extremely meaty, he decrees when petting her rear end. He feeds her celery.
Fresh bread. Head cheese. Get bent she screams when he feeds her greens. She sexts her pert
teats, lewd mess. She presses her head where wrens nest. Their weight creaks the bed. He feels
her shell break. He leashes her.
there, there the wheel’s weight
She chews betel leaves when she needs energy. He tests her belief system. He reads, “They were
dead when he left them.” Her defences weaken when he reads her the rest. Her nerves need rest.
She senses death resting when she rests. She reads tea leaves each week. He heeds her fear, veers
left, then left, ever left. Even when she needs less, she feeds herself weak dreams. He seems
well-rested, even wets the bed when he gets head.
She pens letters. She fears the reaper, the bee-strewn cemetery. He searches her belvedere. She
keeps secrets, never reveals her real needs. He needs her sweet teats. He needs her help.
geese v bejewels the beech tree weasels free the hens streets empty bellmen search the
pens where perps best left celled read Ed Lear sheep sleep dreamlessly
Believe me, he beseeches. He breathes weed even when he needs clear senses.She never
believes; she feels deceived. She expects better sex. Their sex feels cheap. He releases her, feeds
the shredder her letters, breathes deep freshened breezes.
her belvedere’s view: cement fields, few trees
leg presses leg. Extremely meaty, he decrees when petting her rear end. He feeds her celery.
Fresh bread. Head cheese. Get bent she screams when he feeds her greens. She sexts her pert
teats, lewd mess. She presses her head where wrens nest. Their weight creaks the bed. He feels
her shell break. He leashes her.
there, there the wheel’s weight
She chews betel leaves when she needs energy. He tests her belief system. He reads, “They were
dead when he left them.” Her defences weaken when he reads her the rest. Her nerves need rest.
She senses death resting when she rests. She reads tea leaves each week. He heeds her fear, veers
left, then left, ever left. Even when she needs less, she feeds herself weak dreams. He seems
well-rested, even wets the bed when he gets head.
She pens letters. She fears the reaper, the bee-strewn cemetery. He searches her belvedere. She
keeps secrets, never reveals her real needs. He needs her sweet teats. He needs her help.
geese v bejewels the beech tree weasels free the hens streets empty bellmen search the
pens where perps best left celled read Ed Lear sheep sleep dreamlessly
Believe me, he beseeches. He breathes weed even when he needs clear senses.She never
believes; she feels deceived. She expects better sex. Their sex feels cheap. He releases her, feeds
the shredder her letters, breathes deep freshened breezes.
her belvedere’s view: cement fields, few trees
About the Author
Nicole Zdeb is a writer based in Portland, OR. She has recently had short fiction and poems published by Lana Turner Journal, Hole in the Head Review, and Driftwood Press. Nicole holds a MFA in Creative Writing from Iowa Writers' Workshop. Bedouin Press published her chapbook, The Friction of Distance.
About the Work
Love Song in E is a playful poem based on a tight constraint — only words that have the vowel sound of "e" are used. This poem was inspired by Canadian poet Christian Bok's work. I like formal challenges because they heighten attention to the unit of the word in a way that is fruitful. Writing this reminded me of how plastic and malleable the English language can be.
Nicole Zdeb is a writer based in Portland, OR. She has recently had short fiction and poems published by Lana Turner Journal, Hole in the Head Review, and Driftwood Press. Nicole holds a MFA in Creative Writing from Iowa Writers' Workshop. Bedouin Press published her chapbook, The Friction of Distance.
About the Work
Love Song in E is a playful poem based on a tight constraint — only words that have the vowel sound of "e" are used. This poem was inspired by Canadian poet Christian Bok's work. I like formal challenges because they heighten attention to the unit of the word in a way that is fruitful. Writing this reminded me of how plastic and malleable the English language can be.
