Statue in Garden Maze
The woman is missing an arm which should touch her shoulder,
gracefully, as if stone could be graceful. But it’s cut to be
and so, I think it is; I see it to be. The ivy,
which is her new dress, is dying. The weather is changing.
The sun is dropping low past the maze like a tomato
left too long on the vine, heavy with sugars
which will be its undoing. The statue-woman, looking
over her shoulder, surveys the center of the hedgemaze,
watches me pouring gasoline all over the greens, lighting a match,
burning this whole fucker down.
Teo Mungaray is a queer, chronically ill, latino poet. He holds an MFA from Pacific University of Oregon and is pursuing his doctorate at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. He is a co-founder and co-EIC of Cotton Xenomorph. His poems can be found in Cosmonauts Avenue, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Assaracus: A Journal of Gay Poetry, Prelude Magazine and The Bellevue Literary Review. He currently lives in Portland and can be found on twitter @teomungaray.