Daniela Olszewska

 

Beginning Of A Bedtime Story

I.

He threw baby's
teeth at my window.
They did not sound
like rocks.
I briefly regretted
not having
a balcony.
He climbed through
the window whole,
presented me
with a sheep
in a velvet box.
Also, a spare rib.
There were wine
glasses and contact
lenses to consider.

 

II.

A tear
in the patch of cotton
azaleas spread over
my bed.
Stringed instruments
helped keep me
from laughing.

 

III.

I am going to use
this spoon
to open
your mouth.
Either
light or clay
will fall out.
I'll accept any
answer not given
in the form
of a question.

 

 

Daniela Olszewska lives and writes in Chicago.  She is on the Editorial Board of Columbia Poetry Review and she is an intern at Switchback Books.  Her poems have been/ will be published in Keep Going, Melancholia's Tremulous Dreadlocks, and La Petite Zine

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