Karen Garthe

The Chiffon Artist

Picks a way up crabby stairs, a slither of numbskull
looting her
prize

No barrier hauls death the other way, sifts perforate deeply
dune
the over- the-shoulder willies in tinned swigs

                                      Increase chiffon

                            Donate mystery

Halt little piles of sodden rice, broth or crisply missing
                            The Chiffon Artist is katblack up against
                            the moon’s metallurgy

                  worn to the conical point of brim
       winks on the bridge
       whistles low, back of the gamelan

Whose imagination mints
                  The Gauze Mother

       The Solid Object

Lingering in the scrim, The Chiffon Artist
cauls the tray of space

                  and we thirst together, but we moistly
Agree
We’ve cozied the moment, all tucked in

The cold humming