Poems Niederngasse Issue 84 - January 2008

Juliet Cook

Her Voice Shoots Out of a Rusty Espresso Machine

She is pressurized and bitter, but in close proximity
to assembly-line macaroons who have had their powdered sugar
artfully applied.  My café noir doppelganger.  Glitter-eyed
ghost of a glass case.  She haunts sweet puff pastries.
Flaunts scissor blades unattached from the pink
plastic handles and buried up to the hilt in muffins,
drizzled with bloody trim.  Her voice shoots out
of a rusty espresso machine.  Her laugh is the not-quite-creamy
sound of reddish-brown froth floating atop a dark heart.
She injects spider silk into skim milk.  Infests cherry tartlets
with fleas.  Denatures my demitasse into an errant vehicle.
It creeps across the tabletop.  Rattles at the edge.  Waits to spin its web.
When it casts its 8-legged shadows, steamy ball bearings grow inside
flaky scones.  Like steely spider eggs.  Like colossal pearls.
Like a bullet in the pit of my throat, a mouthful of hot crema.

Juliet Cook’s recent poetic projects include Girl Gang and The Laura Poems, two limited-edition, hand-designed, ribbon-bound chapbooks of original poetry available from  BloodPuddingPress.etsy.com.  A few of her recent publication credits are Sein Und Werden, Wicked Alice and listenlight.  Several new poems and manuscripts are seeking homes and slinking around and misbehaving hither & thither.  Her blog is called CandyDishDoom.  email:  JulietX@Bust.com