Clairvoyance
Lynn Cohen
As a child, I hid behind evergreen
shrubs to spy through night-lit windows
on widowed Mrs. Post alone
with her TV, wine, toy poodle,
eager to see her die of despair.
In the store, my mother filled our cart
while I hung back and squeezed candy
through plastic bags, pressing thumbs
into Mallo Cups and Snickers,
as if to chew them with my nails.
My brother built barricades from chairs,
I had to crawl through to my bedroom,
where I could close the door, where I could
scramble the universe to center myself
as a black hole, dangerous and unknowable.
Magical thinking got me through
childhood and followed me
into my future, where now I recognize
another version of the old woman
at home with her TV, wine, dog, her freedom.
Lynn Cohen’s poetry has appeared in numerous publications, including Trampoline, Campos, Brushfire, St. Katherine’s Review, Oberon Poetry Journal, Evening Street Review, Thin Air, and others. She has an MFA in Creative Writing from Emerson College, and a degree in music performance from the New England Conservatory of Music. She lives in Milwaukee, where she writes, plays cello, and feeds birds, squirrels, and sometimes, inadvertently, raccoons. Her website is www.lynnglicklichcohenpoetry.com.