Under the Carapace (13 for April)

Under the Carapace

Under the carapace
of strait shirtwaist,
her breasts nestled
like turtle doves.
In his grey wold
of rim and wheel, they were all
that made the world round.
He found his lips seeking
their tips, as if his mouth were the shell
of an ear that sought
bird song–or maybe it was ocean–he had no notion what
he heard–only that he wanted to curl
into the orbit of that roar/coo, wresting
dawn’s aureole from night’s fall, though, truly,
just resting.



13th poem for April National Poetry Month belatedly for Izy’s prompt on Real Toads about Soviet Kitsch, an old USSR sci-fi poster above.  (I don’t have the information re creators and copyright, but I believe it’s free use.)  I may be a bit late returning comments, as very busy right now. 

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9 Comments on “Under the Carapace (13 for April)”

  1. Kerry O'Connor Says:

    I loved this picture at first sight, and adore the poem you have written for it. It is as tender a view of alienation as I have ever read. And certainly more than I could ever have written.

    Really excellent.

  2. Sherry Marr Says:

    I absolutely adore “as if his mouth were the shell of an ear that sought birdsong.” Wow!

  3. I love this description:

    “breasts nestled
    like turtle doves.
    In his grey wold”

  4. I didn’t know what carapace meant….Thanks for the new word. I agree with Sherry, that is one of my favorite lines.

  5. Rosemary Nissen-Wade Says:

    Deliciously erotic/romantic.

  6. hedgewitch Says:

    The best features of Eros are found in the mind, never more so than here, where the echo of the physical weaves a waltz that dances beyond the senses and into that inner space where the center wishes so much for stillness and peace. Beautifully done, k.

  7. Maybe he just feel that arrow nested, and yes he lacks the understanding to really comprehend his feelings… how can he ever express them… love how you used the sci fi metaphor of orbiting.

  8. M Says:

    sensuous. love this one ~

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