A Poem By Lina ramona Vitkauskas

by Mark Bibbins, Editor


It was obvious.
By March 2011, I was not projecting into the fourth quarter.

That very day, several juvenile delinquents kicked
the locks off the shed door where I lived and I dragged them

all in by the ears and showed them Magritte’s umbrella collection.
Then, from behind the rusty chipper, I revealed my “associate”

while puffing on my own gentlemen’s brand of cigarillo. One stray
stayed, I made porridge, made a leather fist and slammed his beer

into the table. “Come work for me,” I said, “you’ll erect a greenhouse
in back.” Later I wandered into town & arrived at the meeting of the

Itty Bitty Titty Committee, where I gladly introduced them to igneous
and conglomerate rocks. Meanwhile, the stray juvvie gingerly secured

my dress to the clothesline — out of respect. He suddenly saw little flash-
sensitive Diane, from next door, in the inflatable pool

smell pliable plastic he knew her from phonics & braids — 
green grapes in paper sacks. Diane & I made confections from the

finest mixes & jams back then, but the townsfolk shamed
us (our foul mouths) & ordered us to spit into the divine

volcano, as children are often ordered to do in New Guinea.
We then heard Agent Cooper say, “Diane, I’m looking at

what appears to be a package of chocolate bunnies,” and
every morning, our amphibious wings bled into the months

we had not slept. We look back now & say, “Mahogany … wow…”
So get into the circle tell us about yourself.

Lina ramona Vitkauskas is the author of SPINY RETINAS (Mutable Sound, 2014); A Neon Tryst (Shearsman Books, 2013); and THE RANGE OF YOUR AMAZING NOTHING (Ravenna Press, 2010). In 2009, Brenda Hillman selected her for The Poetry Center of Chicago’s Juried Reading Award.

Outside hot. Inside poems. You may contact the editor at poems@theawl.com.