Home
About
Contact
Fiction
Poetry
Academic
Personal Essay
Literary Criticism
Film Criticism
Television Criticism
Cultural Criticism
Press
More

Home
About
Contact
Fiction
Poetry
Academic
Personal Essay
Literary Criticism
Film Criticism
Television Criticism
Cultural Criticism
Press

Selected Poems

The Beach

It was Paris, mid-August. The French had caravanned

To the rocky Midi. Boulangerie Saison was papered up,

Where I’d mime for two-euro Bánh mì’s; the fruit stands, too,

Where galaxies of flies shot around mealy mirabelles.

Nochebuena

And then at ten-thirty the scratched-up Water Music

Began to skip and at the red three truck-bed Mexicans

Sucked blue Gatorades and turned to stare.

Handel was one of those blunt gestures we tried back then

To seem like adults or aliens from a more interesting planet,

To make the sand on Sixteenth seem like a clue in a dream,

Where the Chinese mothers on Segways smiled,

Remembering replicas in Zhejiang.

Valentine's Day

Some people, someone said, enjoy things:

Like when the steering wheel's too hot

And they rub their hands across it, fluttery,

Like down a lady's spine.

States of Residence

Your hair is that of the recently electroshocked woman

Who lives next door and watches television in her gowns.

Men came on Christmas and left Bud Light on the AC unit

And in the morning the screen door was still open

And she sat there still watching the no-signal blue

And she is still sitting there in the new year.

The Cloud Effect

There was a town called Saint Cloud

Whose downtown was named

After Monopoly streets, and whose arteries counted

1 to 250 until you reached the Everglades.

Copyright © 2023 Ann Manov - All Rights Reserved.

Powered by GoDaddy

This website uses cookies.

We use cookies to analyze website traffic and optimize your website experience. By accepting our use of cookies, your data will be aggregated with all other user data.