|Autumn Sky Poetry - Number 4|
|Miranda and Caliban
It’s not safe to love
As I waited for you to come, sun spread
to want. She races into the long grasses
While I carried each stone away, lifted
Laurie Byro lives off a dirt road in the backwoods of New Jersey. Her husband, Mr. Byro, is a soothsayer. He spends most of the night playing the banjo to the cat. This gives Laurie space to create her breathless wordscapes. She sees them as feral creatures that have escaped from the cage of her imagination and established a free life in the shared world. She likes it best when her poems run away from her, refuse food, bite the hand that feeds them. Mr. Byro plinks out Oh Susanna. The cat cries, chases the poems into the woods. Sometimes after midnight she comes back with bloody paws. Laurie is available for Tupperware parties and stag nights. She makes fondue and molds marzipan. She was born under the sign of wanton desire. Her Mars and Neptune are perfectly aligned.
She can be reached at the Lee Memorial Library in New Jersey where she runs a poetry circle.
© 2006 Laurie Byro