TWO POEMS

by Ana Božičević

ZAGREB, ’93

Our downstairs neighbor

Watered the

Concrete backyard

Twice a day religiously

To keep the dust

From his basement

Apartment until

The bare slab grew

Moss & lichen

Its own ecosystem

Water of life

We laughed at him but

One morning I went out

To the balcony hung

Over the backyard

To have a smoke—

Are you picturing

All this? It was

That time of month,

& I became

Light-headed

Bleeding through the white

Nightgown, I fell

& passed out for

A few moments

Woke with blood

Pooling

Around my head

& crotch—

But anyway, it was

Neighbor who found me and

Cared while I

Writhed in cramps

On his green love seat

Until the ambulance came

The ER was actually

Just a few blocks

Away and

When it was all done

I walked back the

Few streets over

Still in my long white bloody

Nightgown

& waist-long dark

Goth hair

A fresh stitch by my eye

Making a cross over

An old scar

Teen Madeline Usher

Or so I fancied

Walking through

Yards of dusty Zagreb roses

I wanted to control

The stream of time

Keep open the portal

To the parallel world

Where I was cared for

Something I somehow

Knew I deserved

I took on faith

As the first planes

Flew overhead

BYRON

more than ever

time feels like a river

bringing you closer

if I can only make it upstream

ten years or

ten hours

I get to see tes yeux

so I sail

along the banks of morning

thronging with ghosts

into the eye of noon

hope you’ll be waiting

on the shore of evening

but it’s night

I’m out in the open

still rowing

These poems are from New Life forthcoming from Wave Books