When Billy Collins Falls For Me

by | Mar 11, 2014 | Poetry

He’s had one too many cups of

coffee, black, and reads my poem

with a vibration in his hand.

 

He wants more. To know how

a woman can conceive of her

chest as an air-filled cavity,

 

her breasts balloons

that will carry her into published pages

and her words into the mouths

 

of children not yet born.

He searches his books, papers,

telephones on the land-line

 

to an editor he knew in the mid-west

once in the 1970s. Where else would women

have toes that point skyward

 

and painted in glitter?

He finds my address, an old one,

and sends letters filled with verbs

 

and feathers. The man who receives them

wonders who this poet is, obsessed with the smell

of poltergeists, who omits a return address.

 

 

 

Photo By: Sherman Yang

About The Author

Kristin LaTour

Kristin LaTour is the author of three chapbooks, most recently Agoraphobia (Dancing Girl Press, 2013). Her work has appeared in online and print journals such as Cider Press Review, Fifth Wednesday, Adanna, dirtcakes, and Rock & Sling. The anthology, Sestinas in the 21st Century (University Press of New England, 2013), includes one of her poems. She is a Professor of English at Joliet Jr. College and lives in Aurora, IL. Visit her website.