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Macaroni Lips

October 25, 2021
by

 

 

I’m pouting a Fibonacci sequence,
a phyllotaxis of impatience,
a fern unfurling,
the fine pout of a pineapple
sprout

Don’t you know that the Golden Spiral
is just my pout while waiting for you,
my pine to uncurl you
The sunflower inflorescence of universes
the Chamomile spiral complexity of cosmoses

is just my simple
upside down
macaroni-lips pout
Kiss my macaroni lips,
kiss me mid-sequence

un-spiral the me in everything,
whorl the stars I exhale back into my mouth
See the sequence of missing you
you put me through,
how my pout started all of this,

how the song of everything springs
from the arrangement of my turned down lips
from the forehead of my longing
all the universes are one big curve
of macaroni, waiting fir, me curling for your kiss

 

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Anne Walsh

Anne Walsh is a Poet and a Story Writer.
She’s been shortlisted for the Newcastle Poetry Prize twice and for the ACU Prize for Literature.
Her first book of poems, I Love Like a Drunk Does, was published by Ginninderra Press (2009, Australia).
Her work has also been published in the U.S., including a short story, The Rickman Digression, by Glimmer Train. Her second book of poems, Intact, was published in January 2017 by Flying Island Books.

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