 |
Idle Fire
|
|
There is the black and white
Angel at the Sepulchre
Of a dead rock star.
Cigarette smoke
Dances like limbo ghosts,
But there is no music.
April and its perrenials
Startling forsythia
And lilies, sign of everlasting.
A whore with a phone to her ear
On the steps of a downtown
Apartment house.
She is wrapped in blue
And knows
That kissing leads to heroin.
And everywhere
Idle fire
With nowhere to go.
|
|
Writer
Bio
|
Corrine De Winter is the author of seven books of poetry and prose, including Like Eve, The Half Moon Hotel, and Touching the Wound. Her poetry, fiction, essays, and interviews have appeared in numerous publications, including The New York Quarterly, Imago, Phoebe, Plainsongs, Yankee, Sacred Journey, Interim, The Chrysalis Reader, The Lucid Stone, Fate, Press, Sulphur River Literary Review, Modern Poetry, The Lyric, Atom Mind, and The Writer. She has been the recipient of awards from Triton College of Arts & Sciences and Writer's Digest, as well as The Esme Bradberry Award, The Madeline Sadin Award, and The Rhysling Award. She has been nominated twice for The Pushcart Award. She is a member of The Horror Writer's Association (HWA) and a resident of Western Massachusetts.
CNL20@javanet.com
|
|
Other
Pedestal Published Works
|
|
|
|
