About the Poem
Taken from the book
About the poet
Jane Yeh is an American poet who has lived in England for over a decade. Born in New Jersey, she...
I've gotten nothing for weeks. You might think of me
As dated in a blue housecoat, buttoning & unbuttoning,
Waiting you out: I have my ways
Of keeping time. When your letter comes, dogs will bark
Up & down the street. The tomatoes in the garden
Will explode like fireworks. Each day the mailman passes
In a reverie, illiterate, another cobweb
Grows across the door. Picture me
Going bald one hair at a time, combing & curling, burning
My hand on the iron once every hour: I like to
Keep myself busy. When I hear from you, aurora
Borealis will sweep across the sky. Every lottery ticket in my drawer
Will win. Even the mailman will know the letters
Of your name. If you bothered to notice, you would see me
Turning to gold rather slowly, bone
By bone, the way teeth come
Loose from the gums, the way animals go
Extinct, in geological time.
'Correspondence' from Marabou (Carcanet, 2005), © Jane Yeh 2005, used by permission of the author and Carcanet Press.
Sponsor this poem
Would you like to sponsor this poem? Find out how here.
Jane Yeh Downloads