After the painting “Christmas Night,”
1930 by Ben Nicholson
From bed, we did nothing but count minutes nose pressed to the window
this evening magical but blue bruise on brown fur
an animal observing your interior
a radiator lost all dimension mint on meat
further afield than a remark gleam of intent
future plaything lopsided against the knob for the heat
heat dispensed without remark a flower as if pained
wild nougat roses like flames out of the tree
wild chalky rosebuds do candleabra flames in the night
white ledge like a white maneuver leg warm the approach of gifts
each brush or touch nineteenth on a list of things initialed
since in packages lie [and packages lie]
a meek night where an animal’s eye lurks
in waiting it earns a game like counting stripes
and oh soft a silver antic in the mirror
CYNTHIA ARRIEU-KING was raised in Louisville, Kentucky, and earned her PhD from the University of Cincinnati. A former Kundiman Fellow, Arrieu-King is the author of the poetry chapbook The Small Anything City (2006) and the full-length poetry collections People Are Tiny in Paintings of China (2010) and Manifest (2013). With Sophia Kartsonis, she coauthored the chapbook By Some Miracle a Year Lousy with Meteors (2013). She also cowrote the collection Unlikely Conditions (forthcoming, 2016) with the late Hillary Gravendyk.
Arrieu-King also edited the most recent issue of DUSIE.
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