Variegated Wash for Beginners
Most human on days reduced
to waiting out the pain
outside cicadas and lawn machines in fugue
a gray rain
inside the dotted blue fabric of the sinking sofa
damp my body an incidental mixed media
collage of humidity bookmark, paperclip, silver
Klondike Bar wrapper tucked in elbow crease
wedged in belly fold stuck to the back of the thigh
sweat glue
the mind like a marble
winding down a spiral chute
tracing over and over the outlines of various shapes
of regret; the perimeters of punched-in drywall, crumpled bumpers, patches of salt
on the back of the hand, parking lot vomit, a pile of wet
towels on a hardwood floor, chunks of ice streaming
left to right in the dark green current of the Niagara,
flashlight beam, ashes, things we never
said, the diligent beat of Madonna’s
"Holiday" behind it all
the bird clock on the mantelpiece ticks off the minutes
as the brain layers pain over
pain in thin glazes applied
with a ¾-inch flat-brush
pigment squeezed
from aluminum tubes
and diluted until the rich purples
and greens of eggplant and avocado
emerge colors
expand
bloom
blend into their complementary
shadows
all
a few days
past their prime.
to waiting out the pain
outside cicadas and lawn machines in fugue
a gray rain
inside the dotted blue fabric of the sinking sofa
damp my body an incidental mixed media
collage of humidity bookmark, paperclip, silver
Klondike Bar wrapper tucked in elbow crease
wedged in belly fold stuck to the back of the thigh
sweat glue
the mind like a marble
winding down a spiral chute
tracing over and over the outlines of various shapes
of regret; the perimeters of punched-in drywall, crumpled bumpers, patches of salt
on the back of the hand, parking lot vomit, a pile of wet
towels on a hardwood floor, chunks of ice streaming
left to right in the dark green current of the Niagara,
flashlight beam, ashes, things we never
said, the diligent beat of Madonna’s
"Holiday" behind it all
the bird clock on the mantelpiece ticks off the minutes
as the brain layers pain over
pain in thin glazes applied
with a ¾-inch flat-brush
pigment squeezed
from aluminum tubes
and diluted until the rich purples
and greens of eggplant and avocado
emerge colors
expand
bloom
blend into their complementary
shadows
all
a few days
past their prime.
Susan Barry-Schulz grew up just outside of Buffalo, New York. She is a licensed physical therapist living with chronic illness and an advocate for mental health and reducing stigma in IBD. Her poetry has appeared in The Wild World, New Verse News, SWWIM, Barrelhouse online, Nightingale & Sparrow, Shooter Literary Magazine, Kissing Dynamite, Bending Genres, Feral and elsewhere. She lives in a lake neighborhood in the Hudson Valley region with her husband and one or more of her three adult children. It all depends.
Art: Yuno Shiota, 『イロアソビ-6』Iroasobi Play with Colors, 185 cm ×185 cm, oil, acrylic, and oil pastel on paper, 9.18.2021.
