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-Robert Duncan

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Evidence of the Paranormal cover

By Carol Szamatowicz

ISBN 0-9669430-2-3
96 pages

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"Full of incandescent imagery, ZOOP is a delight!"
--The Boston Review

"ZOOP is a riveting book"
--Lewis Warsh

From ZOOP:

Careful of the book, you'll offend it. You think the lake empty, suddenly thirty ducks arrive in the club car, twenty valorous sheep, a bough on stilts. At six in the evening, four in the morning, three in the afternoon, squall light, sky warm, riders belly up to the stars, clouds clearing the weir. You must draw a poem, no more room, birth inventing spiritual patrimony. Gable in a storm, his pants crease working up, broke the filly right there in the truck. There are loud voices under the river, a teacher giving instruction, the doctors' unappeased rage in the ceaseless hammering of knees, the sullen, ground down look of continual promise. Take my lighter wit's music, you're safer uptown, you'll bury the mall clique In rubbish on a stoop. Absence embraces light, bitterness of anointment, sky, day, elation aligned. Her father rescues the sofa's descent to the basement, garage, curb, or church. She wonders what had clued him in casually, creamy tongued, eye-glassed, expecting pinches of flesh, lips blown, cool glazing, fewer introductions with clearer means of ignoring faces.

Nurse's Hands
I wash my gloves in peppermint, get rained on in the sauna, I'm tall enough to peg the clothesline and feel desire in my mother's lunge. My brother on the tugboat crew tells stories of snake-lined quarries and blusterers he'll whip; I'm like my daughter's penmanship, brilliant and feline. I'm not telling anyone, not diluting it, it's all of it, still bystill, separation of smoke and ground solution--I recover words, build one, swallow gum. The communityhas paved a haven for smokers, dog-walkers, players, pizza dressers and ball-throwers. The pleasure of seeing gives up wanting, allowing life to play itself out in prayers or birthrights.



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