Ask Me for my Pronouns
Ask me
for my pronouns?
It’s what we do
these days.
The question
brings up a tangle
of old yarn,
thoughts
I never planned
To mess with
again.
I learned pronouns
women used to say:
they, theirs, different from those
common in the public sphere
he, him, his,
pronouns crowned
by church and school.
Some brave souls always
pinned her and hers
on bits of life
they could control,
spit out me and I
despite themselves.
They paid a price.
I learned which
pronouns struggle
for success.
Not much was mine
until we got loud
and louder,
until ours earned
a little respect.
If the world
wants command
of your pronouns,
say no. Grab your
handle
and swing.
Ekphrastic Spin
I
Evening silk sky
conservatory path
the wine bar, statues,
frescoes on the walls
programs in hand
we stand together
matrons in brocade,
men in suits, a couple
in torn jeans.
House lights dim
to a string of fireflies,
first notes
rise, ultimately drive
toward the mounting cries
of Dido’s Lament.
II
Once more
under open sky
life postponed.
Tier on tier
we rise
on our toes,
sway cell phone lights
to guitars’ pluck and slide.
A tumble of drums score
the metal heavy band.
III
Four in black.
They bow. In the nave
where candles burn,
a flute climbs
silver spirals
through the air.
Violins reply.
The cello underlines
its saraband.
The hour flows
like a running stream.
Dance to War
1. Rehearsal of Gravity
I saw them dance
Peter Martins
Suzanne Farrell
not knowing
what I was
looking at.
Simplicity
streamlined style
vocabulary of speed
nuance of music
the modern approach.
2. Adagio of Protest
First, the music
material shaped
by certain tools
extended lines
of the body
techniques obscure
to me
a dance master’s
tools of the trade
provides
poetic ensembles
story ballets
period notations
a history of ballet
bends
our weight.
3. Grouped on the Ground
Stranger, fleeter
entirely believable
phrase of movement
translates to war
battle lines visible
attack, retreat
submerge
dance among spent shells,
in fields of mines, explosive
jumps, deep pliés
A drone in flight
communicates
dissonance surreal
knowing this,
each of us
vulnerable and daring
tilt to save ourselves
from falling,
jagged
angular steps
processed.
Antonia Lewandowski
A New York City native, Antonia Lewandowski moved to Florida in 1989. From 2003 to 2022 she taught writing at St. Petersburg College. Nominated for two Pushcart Prizes, her poetry collection, Tangled, was published in 2023. In 2024 Antonia received a arts grant from Creative Pinellas and produced a spoken word exhibition, “A Walk among Words.” She lives in Largo with her husband and their two dogs.
