[诗歌]   Sunday Morning

alvinwoolf

by Ellen Doré Watson


The mullah wore beautiful shoes
Celery pickers don't get enough calories
Ice or snow arriving every Friday
In the western desert they paint pilgrimages on houses
The average Joe merits how many acres of junk mail
An eighteen-wheeler could potentially accordion as many cars
I wonder if they'll ever get that novelist
They're thinking of making the street one-way
The ice skaters are sharpening their blades
The public holds onto their hats, their stocks, their president
Downtown cannot be saved by skate-boarders
The latest storm hits elsewhere and on Thursday
Unnamed sources might just kneecap the reporters
Truck stop chapel does booming business
Another smiling athlete sees flashing metal
How much land was lost and where did it go
Finally, ripe tomatoes in mid-winter
Do you think we'll have a war

alvinwoolf

Ellen Doré Watson:

Director of the Poetry Center at Smith College, Ellen Doré Watson is the author of Ladder Music (Alice James Books, 2001) and We Live in Bodies (Alice James Books, 1997), as well as Broken Railings (Green Lake Chapbook Prize, Owl Creek Press, 1996). She is the translator of eleven books from Brazilian Portuguese and serves as Translation Editor of The Massachusetts Review.

Watson's poems have appeared widely in journals, including The American Poetry Review and The New Yorker. Among her awards and honors are the Bullis-Kizer Prize from Poetry Northwest, a National Endowment for the Arts Translation Fellowship, and a Massachusetts Cultural Council Artist Grant. Library Journal named her one of "24 Poets for the 21st Century."