Maggie Glover is originally from Pittsburgh, PA. Recently, her poetry has appeared in jubilat, Ninth Letter, Stirring: 16th Anniversary Edition, Pittsburgh Poetry Review and other literary journals. Her debut collection of poems, How I Went Red, was published by Carnegie Mellon University Press in 2014. A selection of her work is included in 12 Women: An Anthology of Poems, released by Carnegie Mellon University Press in Dec. of 2014. Upcoming projects include a collaborative poetry manuscript with poet Isaac Pressnell, an excerpt of which appears in Best American Experimental Writing 2015 and Carrier Pigeon. She lives in Los Angeles, CA.
Aubade in Green
I coaxed out: "which character are you?"
and that there are big, strange boats in our sea.
Stashed in my stomach
is a lifetime of green.
the stars are ———. What we see is just a fistful
of ocean carving into basalt, like
anything that matters,
it's hardly there.
Resolve the gutter of your choices
and have anyone you want.
Drag into a warm spell and wait.
The first dead body
looks like she is still breathing.
before I speak of the difference.
Embarrassing as it is to admit, the first line of "Aubade in Green," is directly inspired by one of those Facebook quizzes that tell you which Disney princess or Alt 90s Grrrl or type of cocktail you are. Life would be so much easier to figure out if those quizzes meant something, right?
In romantic relationships, I have a bad habit of attaching significance to similarly superficial things about my partner or the relationship to give it more meaning that it really has. When it ends, it takes a long time for me to realize and admit the difference between what was real and what wasn't.
(Also, in case you were wondering: I am Belle, Kim Deal from the Breeders, and a Pimm's Cup).
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.