Kate Northrop poem: "She was loose-limbed"

She was loose-limbed

like stuff in the back of a truck

going over a bump.  When she sat reading

she was green and quiet,           

distinct at first, then blurred

like a paper napkin’s grease.  What time is it?

seemed to be a question

novels asked. The evening

fell like a bird, fell so fast

we could just remember, how it felt

fucking and getting fucked, how we lingered

smoking in the dark outside

but never heard the tall

tree in the ear! Heard only

our own breath, a scuffling

like the sound ballet shoes make

during the ballet.  The notes

stuck in our throat?  The body

stormed to stay alive?  We know

she studied her options,

like us.  Like us, she stood

days at the window, the wail of sirens

banging off the city walls—

Then walked out into sun? So bright

it was like walking

into someone else’s applause?

A force as fierce as roses

climbing over a gate.

                                                                       after (far after) Chang-rae Lee’s On Such a Full Sea

                       ---Kate Northrop. Posted with permission. The poem first appeared in Locomotive.