Postcard Poem by Jennifer Juneau

Midnight bells to boom & still
the frayed maid sucking up to the moon,
that nefarious stepmum, a fossil
in limbo, sexually frustrated & envious me youth,

nonetheless stunning. (After all,
she is a woman too.) & I am mirrored in her face
alone & sublunary as I am installed
in this glossy rectangular space:

The Alps, phlegmatic & fuliginous
as death, a comely myth this. No prince to smack
my mouth betimes with sublime superficial kiss

or force glass shoe. White flag in wrack,
bent in beam, I scribe to you. Anyone this.
I, my bony shadow. My frick & frack.

(Cincinnati Review, Vol.3, No.1.2006)