Lyn Lifshin

WHEN I THINK OF THE SCAR WHERE THE OTHER CAR SCALPED MY FOREHEAD

When I took of the steri strips
I couldn't stand the scar, how in
a poster photograph from a
week before, my skin was taut.
I couldn't stand the white
jagged line, as now each new
line is a jeer. I don't want to see
what pulls away from what
held it, like in the house
I'm rarely in: a few weeks
away and the webs move in,
something I can't see is
doing dirt. Trails of sawdust,
a hieroglyph that no matter
I've redone the bathrooms,
there is something buried,
waiting to start gnawing
thru grout, tile smooth
as my skin then. Wood cream
on the cherry sinks in, does as
little as face cream. What
I vacuum, suck up like
a belly once concave
moves in darkness, spiders,
worms under the floor
waiting for their turn

* * *

WHEN MY MOTHER'S HAIR GREWLONGER, LUSH ON IV

it was as if to make
a pillow for her last
bed. Her skin already
pulling over her bones
so her head was skull
like. When she said
her hair cut was kill-
ing her, it stung like
when she ordered
Death by Chocolate."
It seems terrible,
what happens to the
body, the perfect
teeth letting go as if
in a hurry to get
somewhere else
while lines become
graves around the
mouth and forehead,
trenches darkness
fills. This broken
body, once in 7 inch
heels darting up
Beacon Hill so fast no
one could keep up
with her

* * *

WHEN I SEE SARAH JESSICA PARKER IS REPLACED BY JOSS STONE

for Gap, I'm thinking what
happens happened again:
the daughter replacing the
mother, blooming as the
mother starts to fade. I
rarely write about being
less young, a euphemistic
way to beat around what
I'm thinking. It's like a man clutching a tumor

growing big as a Siamese
twin. There and tell me
truly, can you stop looking
at it? In your mirror,
across the table. The lines
that never mattered
deepening, hair thinner.
When I saw Joss Stone
singing that Janice Joplin
blues, gorgeous taut
skin, Melissa Ethridge,
bald head, both belting
the blue blues out, Joss's
arms lovely, a white
I bet nothing has slid from
abruptly, leaving a burn,
a scar and sure she's
hot and her teeth are
lovely but I want Sarah,
I want her blues, her
over 30 beauty to
mirror mine

Lyn Lifshin has written more than 125 books and edited 4 anthologies of women writers. Her poems have appeared in most poetry and literary magazines in the U.S.A, and her work has been included in virtually every major anthology of recent writing by women. She has given more than 700 readings across the U.S.A. and has appeared at Dartmouth and Skidmore colleges, Cornell University, the Shakespeare Library, Whitney Museum, and Huntington Library. Her most recent works include Barbaro: Beyond Brokenness, Persephone, Desire, 92 Rapple, Lost in the Fog and Drifiting.