Ken Arnold

Beauty Begins in Lies



recklessly touring France in the Citroen deux chevaux
you discovered you didn’t love me
our tastes in art irreconcilable
wine bottles clanking in the back seat sustained our illusions
for a month before we lost our way in Florence

clothed only in hair you surfed that day like Venus
on a scallop shell into the Uffizi
the west wind parsing your alluring syntax

and paused before what looked to be a painting
of the city but was actually a window
woke me then at midnight vomiting in the bathroom sink
after I’d recited Verlaine’s Il pleure dans mon coeur
for you in French drunk before the fire believing
I’d never regret the light that loved you




Ken Arnold is a “re-emerging” poet who first published poems back in the 1970s (The American Poetry Review, Poetry Northwest, the Southern Poetry Review, etc.), subsequently wrote plays (one cited in Best Plays of 1983), and along the way worked as a book publisher. Now retired to Portland, Oregon, he writes full time. Poems have more recently appeared in Blood Lotus, Palooka, Big River Poetry Review, A Baker’s Dozen,and a couple of other places. A longish poem is forthcoming in Silk Road this spring.

Promote. Poetry.
FacebookTwitterGoogle+PinterestBlogger PostTumblrGoogle GmailLineYahoo MailRediff MyPageKindle ItGoogle BookmarksShare