A Poem by Linda Besner

by Mark Bibbins, Editor

Our Baby

I’m the father of symbolic logic, you’re the mother
of all hydroplanes. Our little mister multiverse — 
tiny and perfect like Joseph Gordon Levitt — 
is a hypothetical fire truck
vibrating to the planet’s ringtone.

Schrodinger’s womb a tank
on the hot wheels of our gene vehicle.
Daisy-we-do, daisy-we-don’t,
daisy who loves me with the face
of mine enemy. I’m the mother of all icebreakers,

you’re the grandfather
clock of the bellowing hour.
We’re losing light.
What about boats, or kites,
or simply the extant marvels of the Doge’s palace,
thought experiments to the whimsical tune
of the scientific mood. Art irritating Life.

In the sweet clouds of dryer exhaust,

you see a heart-shaped checkmark.
I see a rival for your affection.
The sixth mass extinction nibbles
the next decade with a mini stapler’s
kitten teeth. Our baby holds up a vial
on an island. Daisy, you’re an apple
with a pig in its mouth. The milk
truck pulls up, delivers
two dalmatians, one leash.

Linda Besner’s first book of poetry, The Id Kid, was published in 2011 by Véhicule Press and named as one of The National Post’s Best Poetry Books of the Year. Her second, Feel Happier in Nine Seconds, will be published in 2017 by Coach House Books. She lives in Montreal.

You will find more poems here. You may contact the editor at poems@theawl.com.