
Special Edition—Spring-Summer 1998
Special
Section
MCCCWC entry—poetry division
The Yeller
by Jennifer Roberts
Had you given me a painting,
all in angry swirls
of black and red.
I could have hidden it away.
Now, I hide myself instead.
The words slip through the cracks in the
door.
Jagged splinters of sound seek me out
in my room.
They bounce off white walls and reverberate
more.
There is no escape.
I accept my doom.
Through layers of pink sheets and the pillow
over my head.
It weaves itself into the pattern of my
quilt.
I can do nothing but listen
to your bait and switch.
First speak of love, and then reek of
guilt.
Silence is golden,
so I let myself shine
in the black little hole I've made in
my bed.
You've had your say, now I will have mine,
but of course, it will be in my head.
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