Porch Swing, Summer in a Glass
by Andrea Cohen
Porch swing, summer in a glass.
Drinks get named for thirsts we discuss.
Discussions skirt deeper thirsts.
Such thirsts burn, turn sand to mirages.
A mirage is a drink the mind mixes.
In a glass marked no it pours out yes.
Yes, the sign says, this door is an entrance.
At the portal, fields flower without end.
End of the road, grim terminus.
We’re thirsty, we get force-fed.
About the Author:
Andrea Cohen is an American poet. Her most recent books are Kentucky Derby (2011) and Long Division (2009), both from Salmon Poetry. Her fourth book, Furs Not Mine, is forthcoming from Four Way Books. She directs the Writers House at Merrimack College and the Blacksmith House Poetry Series in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
