Three Poems by Lyn Lifshin

HE SAID THE NIGHTMARE POEMS BLEED

he said they were
too real to be
dreams. He said
they scared him,
a parallel world,
deeper than DNA.
Terrifying he
said, the words
were armed, were
bleeding all
over the page

#

WHEN, AT THE BALLET BARRE, THE MAD GIRL REALIZES

the only relief,
that she could
end it all, this
going thru the
motions. She is
sick of fantasy
being more real
than her life.
On the metro,
only gray. In
ballet, the gray
leaks in thru
her skin, braids
with a litany
of dreads. She
can’t remember
when she stopped
looking ahead
but only backward

#

TOO EARLY FOR THIS

October wind,
hardly a cricket.
What’s inside
curls into itself,
loses its color
like the maple.
Hardly a crow,
only a last blaze
of sun as if to
apologize for
all that's gone