| Poem W Poem by Lisa Prince Published in Sign Language (and Other Hand Signals), Lily Press, November 2006 This is my story. There are three letters that don’t belong in your name. You count them: one, two. Button your shirt. Close your eyes. Wish on that first star. There is a birthmark in the small of your back, shaped like two hands cupped together. Your mother denies ever seeing it. You will travel to thirty countries; none will be your home. You will forget your own name. X. ••••• Lisa Prince has been published in a variety of journals. Most recently her chapbook Sign Language (and Other Hand Signals) was published by Lily Press. Her current artistic mission is to write a poem a day for a year. She lives in Southern Ontario with her daughter and three long-haired cats, none of whom write poetry. She can be found anywhere books are sold looking for a good deal. |