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Sandra Kolankiewicz

For Sale

Sandra Kolankiewicz

For Sale

The story of this room can be told by

the couch and all the teenagers who dry

humped their way into adulthood here, making

out on its hard, flat cushions, more soft than

the floor, especially if you have not yet

realized your bones, still have that pliable

skeleton from childhood, all babies born

near sighted and gazing up into lights

too bright. The fireplace is a century

old, built for gas, now disabled, the tiles

separated from the concrete if you

press on them, the mantel not an antique,

held fast by only two screws, enough to

keep a baby from pulling it down. We

positioned the rug so no one sees the

stain from when the pipes burst, natural

dyes losing their boundaries when they’re flooded

by bathwater from the room above. None

of the pillows match, yet most are worn. This

is what happens when all go fishing but

me, this slow pacing between rooms filled with

ghosts: a great-grandmother in the wing-backed

chair, deaf and left out of conversations,

her primary chore to iron the hand

kerchiefs. I’m surrounded by the many

dead who sat in these chairs, and the drunk man

who always played the piano at the

parties, who on Christmas once wrapped his arms

and legs around a column holding up

the front porch, trying to bring the roof down.

 


 

Cliffs by the River

I am not sure about this Thanksgiving

turkey but have hopes for the exotic

Brussel sprouts still on the stalk, the smaller

second growth after initial harvest,

shipped to the type of grocery store I

prefer.  Last night in Charleston, while I was

deciding which pie to serve, a sixty-

two-year-old white man shot a black teen who

bumped into him on the street. Or so says

the announcer on public radio,

still free if you can’t afford it, unlike

the public television station that

reaches us only though the cable, the

cliffs by the river blocking the signal.

 

 

 

 

Header image by Dai-Liv, "Paradero"

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Sandra Kolankiewicz

About Sandra Kolankiewicz

Sandra Kolankiewicz's poems have appeared widely, most recently in Adelaide, London Magazine, New World Writing and Appalachian Heritage. Turning Inside Out was published by Black Lawrence.  Finishing Line has released The Way You Will Go and Lost in Transition.

Filed Under: Poetry

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