Mind Caviar Poetry

Arlene Ang lives in Venice, Italy where she edits the Italian edition of Niederngasse. Her poetry has recently appeared in The Pedestal Magazine, Melic Review, Tattoo Highway, The Adirondack Review and 2River View. She has received a nomination from VLQ for the 2003 Pushcart Prize.

Email Arlene Ang.

The Beef Carpaccio Affair

Summer left with a swirl
of russet leaves, like her hair
breathing female scents up my nose.
And this craving for raw meat.
Her tanned thighs
slick with perspiration
unscrewed that bottle
of extra-virgin olive oil.
I pressed against her, like the chef
who worked his coriander mill
over our heated plates between swings
of the kitchen door, and licked.

Copyright  ©  2003 Arlene Ang. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy or post.

Rabbit in Blue
to Ella McCrystle

After the tenth complaint
of the morning
I drive by her house.

Before gravy-smeared windows
and beatings in B flat
on unwired piano,

I hesitate.
No blue uniform or badge
can protect against

Beethoven nakedness
as she composes noted recipes
on walls with furred slippers.

She is crackling spit
that will roast me alive
while I savor

the drip of my own oil
past these lips -
kisses only she can orchestrate.

I know there is no warrant
for arresting her when we fall
into love or floor sex.

Quivering from sudden fear,
I drive past for the tenth time
like a rabbit barely escaping trap.

Copyright  ©  2003 Arlene Ang. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy or post.

What Da Vinci Missed
to Ella McCrystle

I will be the policeman
who breaks
into your apartment

after recurrent complaints
of burnt roast
and piano banging.

Da Vinci never knew
what he missed
when he donned

his mother's clothes
and posed as Mona Lisa
with arthritic hands.

You will be naked
of resistance
to my arrest

while you seek
to claw out my eyes with
delusions of grandeur.

But I will not be
Da Vinci, playing blind
in the name of transvestism

and you will not be
Mona Lisa, immortally
virgin and unattainable.

One tight kiss
will lace you to my arms,
to this straight jacket.

I will paint you
with tongued strokes
no great artist ever knew.

You will know then
nothing becomes you
like white.

Copyright  ©  2003 Arlene Ang. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy or post.

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