Wallace Stevens Poetry Prize, Second Place (2014)
When I notice mold in my toothbrush mug
I remember the pigeons
roosting in the airshaft:
their toilet, their nest, our bedroom view
dusk and dawn
Monogamous, amorous, pigeons are known for their soft cooing calls
Once I had
three mugs. Gold-trimmed.
Blond carousel ponies
painted on each side. A gift from your parents
our last Christmas. I thanked them
politely, might’ve even cooed
Slaughtered indiscriminately, the passenger pigeon became extinct
in 1914
One shattered in the sink.
I sold another on the sidewalk. The last survives
demoted: bathroom workhorse
Servants and slaves often saw no other meat. Pigeons in your
dreams suggest
You left the photo I gave you
in the emptied dresser:
us against the wind on Golden Gate Bridge
you are taking blame for the actions of others, or may express
a desire to return home
but you took the bread maker,
the banjo engraved with a golden eagle
Once used for carrying messages, pigeons represent
gossip or news. It is thought they may navigate by the sun
I take down the cloth paintings
we bought in India. Pigeon
this message to the moon:
There is no true scientific difference
in the afterglow shuffle,
bedroom to kitchen,
between a pigeon and
your Valentine bathrobe remains
useful –
a dove
releasing
each man it embraces
This poem first appeared in the 2014 edition of LRR.