6th Floor (by Joan Colby)

 

6th Floor

Every time one goes in or out
they shut the door despite
your saying leave it open.

You hate feeling jailed.
The only view the heli-pad
where people sicker than you

are airlifted in or out.
It’s hygiene, I say, this door
question. Keeping germs contained.

On this floor, infectious patients
are quarantined, some with blue
or yellow placards on their doors.

Acceptable practice: aqua gloves,
hand sanitizers, an occasional mask.
You want to see who staggers

past gripping an IV pole
like a bishop with his crosier.
The girls in scrubs

chattering in Tagalog,
Swinging their lanyards
Like scapulars.

Hospitalists in white
lab coats. Specialists important
in suits and ties like businessmen.

The laundry carts, the carts of food
you order, then disdain, a liquid
diet of broth or tasteless jello.

Leave the door open is your refrain
against closure. The codes
that mystify the corridors.

 

* * * * * *

Joan Colby has published widely in journals such as Poetry, Atlanta Review, South Dakota Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, New York Quarterly, the new renaissance, Grand Street, Epoch and Prairie Schooner. Awards include two Illinois Arts Council Literary Awards, Rhino Poetry Award, the new renaissance Award for Poetry, and an Illinois Arts Council Fellowship in Literature. She was a finalist in the GSU Poetry Contest (2007), Nimrod International Pablo Neruda Prize (2009, 2012), and received honorable mentions in the North American Review‘s James Hearst Poetry Contest (2008, 2010). She is the editor of Illinois Racing News,and lives on a small horse farm in Northern Illinois. She has published 11 books including The Lonely Hearts Killers, The Atrocity Book and her newest book from Future Cycle Press—Dead Horses. FutureCycle has just published her Selected Poems. A chapbook, Bittersweet, is forthcoming from Main Street Rag Press next winter.

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Night Shift at U.S. Steel South Works (by Joan Colby)

 

Night Shift at U.S. Steel South Works

He was already sleeping
As they shook cornflakes into bowls
And poured the milk. Whispered.
Reading the notes he always left
Before he left while they were sleeping.

Instructions on life, a book he thought
They’d like, how the roses in the front yard
Were starting to bloom, how much
He loved them.

Notions that filled his head
As he labored in the white-hot pitch
Of the blast furnace. Molten steel.
How once a man fell and was
Incinerated. Nothing left to identify.

He crafted each of them an identification
Bracelet with the heavy links
Of his affection. Each daughter felt
The notes were meant for her alone.

How they tiptoed about the silent house
As he snored. Watched the voiceless TV
Or in good weather played outdoors.
Never bouncing the ball against
The garage door, never teasing the
Springer spaniel into a fit of barking,
Never singing, tap dancing or playing
The piano. Obedient ghosts. Daughters

Of the man of the inked notes, the cursive hand,
Never the one who, awakened, could yell
Like the mill itself in its rabid
Articulation of iron and slag. A man
Striding the floor of a red hell
To render the pure steel of revelation.

* * * * * *

Joan Colby has published widely in journals such as Poetry, Atlanta Review, South Dakota Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, New York Quarterly, the new renaissance, Grand Street, Epoch and Prairie Schooner. Awards include two Illinois Arts Council Literary Awards, Rhino Poetry Award, the new renaissance Award for Poetry, and an Illinois Arts Council Fellowship in Literature. She was a finalist in the GSU Poetry Contest (2007), Nimrod International Pablo Neruda Prize (2009, 2012), and received honorable mentions in the North American Review‘s James Hearst Poetry Contest (2008, 2010). She is the editor of Illinois Racing News,and lives on a small horse farm in Northern Illinois. She has published 11 books including The Lonely Hearts Killers, The Atrocity Book and her newest book from Future Cycle Press—Dead Horses. FutureCycle has just published her Selected Poems. A chapbook, Bittersweet, is forthcoming from Main Street Rag Press next winter.

Middle of the Damn Night (by Joan Colby)

 

Middle of the Damn Night

The weather radio beeps
From the living room to shake me
Loose of dreams. A voice talking
Low and hurried like a spy.
I rise naked. Five red jewels
Denote severe storms are on the way,
County by county with brigand winds.

The wall of sky suddenly whitewashed. I
Consider pulling on jeans in case
The roof should soar off hawklike
Leaving me and the furniture exposed.

Rant of marine warnings
Where party boaters might still be
Dancing. In 15 minutes the trees
Are fated to kneel and raise their
Leafy arms like the innocents
Trapped in a Seven-Eleven.

Lawn chairs cartwheel the road
And garbage cans applaud. I’m still
Undecided about clothes, if I should
Wake you or the dog or head for the cellar
As admonished. Outside the screen flashes

A silent commercial and the whole drama passes
To the north with muffled cymbals and drums.
New cheeps like a nest of blown-down fledglings.
Crosscountry dictation extending the nightwatch.

This object purchased to foil disaster, so like a soldier
Trudging the perimeter of sleep, I could stay
Awake all damn night eyeing a sanctuary
Of concertina wire. O, weather: brute

With a tire iron and a jack boot,
I’d rather be a bird in a net of lassitude,
I’d rather hand over the money and the keys,
I’d rather go the hell back to sleep
Punching the button to mute.

* * * * * *

Joan Colby has published widely in journals such as Poetry, Atlanta Review, South Dakota Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, New York Quarterly, the new renaissance, Grand Street, Epoch and Prairie Schooner. Awards include two Illinois Arts Council Literary Awards, Rhino Poetry Award, the new renaissance Award for Poetry, and an Illinois Arts Council Fellowship in Literature. She was a finalist in the GSU Poetry Contest (2007), Nimrod International Pablo Neruda Prize (2009, 2012), and received honorable mentions in the North American Review‘s James Hearst Poetry Contest (2008, 2010). She is the editor of Illinois Racing News,and lives on a small horse farm in Northern Illinois. She has published 11 books including The Lonely Hearts Killers, The Atrocity Book and her newest book from Future Cycle Press—Dead Horses. FutureCycle has just published her Selected Poems. A chapbook, Bittersweet, is forthcoming from Main Street Rag Press next winter.

Don’t (by Joan Colby)

 

Don’t

Walk under the moon’s umbrella,
Play tic tac toe with dreams,
Spit in the empty birdbath,
Disguise yourself as a mannequin,
Visit the cemetery of rascals,
Eat scallions in the afternoon,
Give flowers, except to the living,
Embroider the sheets of charity,
Hunker down when the troubles unroll,
Believe in fate’s mercurial clock,
Wear the hat of a profiteer,
Write a check to a bounty hunter,
Burn the book of memory,
Take a child to the hidden wood,
Slave in the mines like a blind mule,
Sing when it’s starless,
Dance to a forlorn tune,
Put on the gloves of industry,
Tell the story again and again,
Take hostage the souvenir of sadness,
Live like a bombardier
Armed and above it all.

* * * * * *

Joan Colby has published widely in journals such as Poetry, Atlanta Review, South Dakota Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, New York Quarterly, the new renaissance, Grand Street, Epoch and Prairie Schooner. Awards include two Illinois Arts Council Literary Awards, Rhino Poetry Award, the new renaissance Award for Poetry, and an Illinois Arts Council Fellowship in Literature. She was a finalist in the GSU Poetry Contest (2007), Nimrod International Pablo Neruda Prize (2009, 2012), and received honorable mentions in the North American Review‘s James Hearst Poetry Contest (2008, 2010). She is the editor of Illinois Racing News,and lives on a small horse farm in Northern Illinois. She has published 11 books including The Lonely Hearts Killers, The Atrocity Book and her newest book from Future Cycle Press—Dead Horses. FutureCycle has just published her Selected Poems. A chapbook, Bittersweet, is forthcoming from Main Street Rag Press next winter.

Can’t (by Joan Colby)

 

Can’t

Dance the tango
In corrective shoes.

Drink single malt
With corporations.

Eat the hardtack
Of a rough crossing.

Read the book
Of absolution.

Drill the silver
Mines of youth.

Sing about heartbreak
Without crying.

Feel a spider
Cross my breast.

Speak the language
Of the deaf to love.

Touch you as you
Turn to the window.

* * * * * *

Joan Colby has published widely in journals such as Poetry, Atlanta Review, South Dakota Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, New York Quarterly, the new renaissance, Grand Street, Epoch and Prairie Schooner. Awards include two Illinois Arts Council Literary Awards, Rhino Poetry Award, the new renaissance Award for Poetry, and an Illinois Arts Council Fellowship in Literature. She was a finalist in the GSU Poetry Contest (2007), Nimrod International Pablo Neruda Prize (2009, 2012), and received honorable mentions in the North American Review‘s James Hearst Poetry Contest (2008, 2010). She is the editor of Illinois Racing News,and lives on a small horse farm in Northern Illinois. She has published 11 books including The Lonely Hearts Killers, The Atrocity Book and her newest book from Future Cycle Press—Dead Horses. FutureCycle has just published her Selected Poems. A chapbook, Bittersweet, is forthcoming from Main Street Rag Press next winter.

Snakes (by Joan Colby)

 

Snakes

As a child, you harbored
Frogs, newts, crayfish, minnows,
Salamanders, turtles, mice, a ferret.

Anything, but snakes, I said,
Failing to make you promise,
Like Adam thinking a simple wish

Would compel obedience
Of the gift his body
Had presented to the world.

Not snakes. Once we encountered
A Massasauga on the trail,
Fat, dusty, coiled like a creature

From The Garden of Earthly Delights.
You seized a stick to poke him
Into strike position.

I yanked you back,
Threw a stone. He slithered
Into the weeds. You said Mom

In the tone of disappointment
Or disapproval I would come to know
So well in the coming years.

I told you how my aunt
In Florida killed a copperhead
With a hoe. I still remember

How its decapitated body
Wriggled. So
No snakes. No snakes in the house.

Tucking you in that night,
I sensed a motion, something flowed
Like a stream of water from

A coffee can on the floor
Beneath your window.
Snapped on the light, you sat

Up abruptly. Dread
In your eyes as I saw it go
Under the dresser.

What boy, what man
Could ever resist the fruity lure
Of anything new or strange.

I tell you again. No.
When they fled the garden
Naked and ashamed

The snake remained
Coiled in the world tree
Waiting for someone like you.

You curl back in sleep
With a hidden smile. When I leave
The room, you’ll find him.

* * * * * *

Joan Colby’s books include Selected Poems [FutureCycle Press], Dead Horses [FutureCycle Press], The Lonely Hearts Killers [Spoon River Poetry Press], The Atrocity Book [Lynx House Press], How The Sky Begins to Fall [Spoon River Poetry Press], The Boundary Waters [Damascus Road Press], Blue Woman Dancing in the Nerve [Alembic Press], Dream Tree [Jump River Press], Chagall Poems [Seven Deadly Sins Press], Beheading the Children [Ommation Press], and Eleven Poems [Interim Press]. 

Her work has been widely published in journals including Poetry, Atlanta Review, GSU Review, Portland Review, South Dakota Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, New York Quarterly, the new renaissance, Grand Street, Epoch, Mid-American Poetry Review, Prairie Schooner, Kansas Quarterly, The Hollins Critic, Minnesota Review, Western Humanities Review, College English, Another Chicago Magazine and others. 

Her many awards include an Illinois Arts Council Fellowship in Literature, the Illinois Arts Council Literary Award, Stone County Award for Poetry, Rhino Poetry Award, and the new renaissance Award for Poetry. Her chapbook, Bittersweet, is forthcoming in 2014 from Main Street Rag. 

For over 25 years, Joan Colby has been the editor of Illinois Racing News, a monthly publication for the Illinois Thoroughbred Breeders and Owners Foundation, published by Midwest Outdoors LLC.  She lives with her husband and assorted animals on a small horse farm in Northern Illinois.

Accessible (by Joan Colby)

 

Accessible

Easy as a girl spreading her bright legs,
Smiling and beckoning. Or peeling an orange
With your thumbnail unleashing
A hundred sensory suns. Getting out
Of bed half awake to the autonomy
Of morning ritual. When all else fails
Praying as if you might be special
As God’s sparrow or the bloody heart
That Huitzilpochtli wants.

Easy exists in the contempt of hard.
The woman who won’t take your calls.
The orchard of overabundance.
The bed where you sleep alone.

Take it easy, you say when you don’t
Want to revisit a conversation,
When all you want is to escape
To a difficult book, a poem that jangles
The keys to a series of doors.

* * * * * *

Joan Colby’s books include Selected Poems [FutureCycle Press], Dead Horses [FutureCycle Press], The Lonely Hearts Killers [Spoon River Poetry Press], The Atrocity Book [Lynx House Press], How The Sky Begins to Fall [Spoon River Poetry Press], The Boundary Waters [Damascus Road Press], Blue Woman Dancing in the Nerve [Alembic Press], Dream Tree [Jump River Press], Chagall Poems [Seven Deadly Sins Press], Beheading the Children [Ommation Press], and Eleven Poems [Interim Press]. 

Her work has been widely published in journals including Poetry, Atlanta Review, GSU Review, Portland Review, South Dakota Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, New York Quarterly, the new renaissance, Grand Street, Epoch, Mid-American Poetry Review, Prairie Schooner, Kansas Quarterly, The Hollins Critic, Minnesota Review, Western Humanities Review, College English, Another Chicago Magazine and others. 

Her many awards include an Illinois Arts Council Fellowship in Literature, the Illinois Arts Council Literary Award, Stone County Award for Poetry, Rhino Poetry Award, and the new renaissance Award for Poetry. Her chapbook, Bittersweet, is forthcoming in 2014 from Main Street Rag. 

For over 25 years, Joan Colby has been the editor of Illinois Racing News, a monthly publication for the Illinois Thoroughbred Breeders and Owners Foundation, published by Midwest Outdoors LLC.  She lives with her husband and assorted animals on a small horse farm in Northern Illinois.