Arlene Ang

Water

... for biographical truth does not exist…    –Sigmund Freud

We often lie about what we’re doing

because we can. Water adapts

to the shape of its container.

We are 60% water. We slip out of our coats

as easily as stick figures. On closer inspection,

the fabric is made up of tiny holes.

It is all incredibly familiar.

Even the smallest half-truth

gets out of proportion. Rain

gives the trees some curvature of spine.

We spend hours

killing insects by the lake.

A lake remains a body of water.

If we all collect our saliva in a glass,

it will be enough to build a small

sand castle. Our hands never stop moving.

We’ve recently moved from Bellevue Platz

ourselves. By the time we finish

throwing stones in the lake,

the water has reverted back to glass.

~~

Arlene Ang is the author of The Desecration of Doves (2005), Secret Love Poems (Rubicon Press, 2007), a collaborative book with Valerie Fox, Bundles of Letters Including A, V and Epsilon (Texture Press, 2008), and Seeing Birds in Church is a Kind of Adieu (Cinnamon Press, 2010). Her poems have appeared in Ambit, Caketrain, Diagram, Poetry Ireland, Poet Lore, Rattle, Salt Hill as well as the Best of the Web anthologies 2008 and 2009 (Dzanc Books). She lives in Spinea, Italy where she serves as staff editor for The Pedestal Magazine and Press 1. Website: www.leafscape.org