CUBIST'S NUDE, RECLINED

On the lounging chair
unfolds a story of hip bones
bowed and arrowed:
one to the sky,
as if it were unroofed,
one to the belly of the chair.
The chair creaks and whines.
Outside rests a dried canoe.
The studio lies
tight lipped on its chartreuse bank.
A red and orange sunset
smears its lipstick on the doors
and on the windows;
tied up shadows sigh
beneath the curtain cords.
On the easel there are limbs
like guitar strings,
a face like shapes of math.
The blacked out moon
sleeps inside a tree.
The artist's brush sharpens
its angles on the subject,
lays the disrobed branches
blue and green. Each stroke
refracts the story of her body.


C.J. Sage

C.J. SAGE's new book is Let's Not Sleep (Dream Horse Press, 2002).  Her poems have appeared in a wide variety of national and international magazines and journals including The Threepenny Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, The Seattle Review, Smartish Pace, Light Quarterly, and The Bitter Oleander.  She has also received several literary awards for poetry.  C. J. serves as an editor for the poetry magazine DMQ REVIEW and as a producer for the weekly poetry program on public radio KKUP in Cupertino.  The new poetry anthology she is currently editing, And We The Creatures, will be released later this year.
TAR