Howard, Jean
Here fuchsia is not sun.
It is the skin of your forehead
Tightening like pomegranate.
And these seeds spilling out
Are not your thoughts,
Your life,
But the undoing of your life
As you wander
The corridors of this
Ship, trying to find
Home.
– Jean Howard, “The Cruise”
Listen to Jean Howard discuss her poetic inspirations from Image Union:
Under lemons
the size of swollen fists,
Joseph speaks of Limoncello,
the first dream of the blossom
before its bud reseals.
– Jean Howard, “Tourist in Amalfi”
Watch Jean Howard read her poetry at City Art:
