Emily M. Trask
TO THE PERSON(S) WHO STOLE MY BICYCLE
Has the green already gone from the basil leaves?
too
quickly.
Something rode in on the neck of night,
sucked them brown, puckered their edges to paper-burnt.
Something made them sun-sick.
Sick of me.
Thievery licked his lips
and then,
preying mantis,
Stole all the wheels off the world.
Plucked the turning tickle of sleep
from behind my corneal spokes
and, laughing,
wide-jawed,
he feasted on rubber herbs
deep inside
an immobile earth.
About the Writer
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Emily M. Trask is a poet and theatre artist with Canadian and Wisconsin roots (father from Orillia, Ontario and mother from a small town on Lake Michigan). Her poetry has been featured in Common Ground Review, Fogged Clarity, Summerset Review, and Burning Word Literary Journal. Her essays, scholarly commentary and award winning play adaptations have been published by the Folger Library, Simon and Schuster and others. As an actress, she has appeared on stage and screen across the country, including NYC’s prestigious Lincoln Center Theatre. Emily currently lives in Philadelphia, PA with her husband and their toothless cat, Ramona Salami.
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Contents
Poetry
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-- Sonnet VII: Grandfather’s Oranges
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-- Sonnet XXVI: What to Buy in a HK Metro Station
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-- Girls, Girls, Girls Dancing on Tables, Eating Octopus
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-- To the Person(s) Who Stole My Bicycle
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-- Sometimes My Mother is a Child
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-- shadowgraph 129: the behavior of the deep
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-- grace notes (jazz triptych)
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Artwork
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Prose
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Reviews