In her kisses, there is money
In her speaking, there is money

The foreheads of the ruling class bow towards her

She speaks and crystal notes
fly into her like angelic jewelry

Let lust derange the warm milk of my brain

In weeping, she’s a harp that curls
when thrown before a fire

Her mouth as full of birdsong as the woods

If ever in my crookedness
I falter from her charms—

Her money is a grotto where I go to pray


War loves all bright colors
and the soldiers live in trees

with the frangipani blossoms
in the strongest light, away
from cool and shade

Soldiers wearing rose-red coats
cross borders

They crowd and break our gates
then spill like so much grain


Claire Cronin is a poet and songwriter from Los Angeles. She is the author of the chapbook Therese (H_NGM_N, 2014) and winner of the Fairy Tale Review 2014 Poetry Award, judged by Ilya Kaminsky. Some of her work can be found in Vinyl Poetry, Prelude, DIALOGIST, Yalobusha Review, and The Volta. Claire has an MFA from the University of California, Irvine and is pursuing a PhD in Creative Writing at the University of Georgia.



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