Print This PostThe Ventriloquist’s Lament
Let me tell you:
in strangers’ houses
all roads lead to rooms
mirrors turn a blind eye
to undone hair and buttons
the swoop of lambent moths
and other accidental creatures
kitchen tables float like coral
pomegranates stain your
hands blood red for days
space is reserved for
long eyes and afternoons
glancing in windowsills
every day a new photograph
in the thraldom of debt
I grew out of all that dust.
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Lindsay Tuggle grew up in Alabama, Kentucky, and Kansas. She moved to Australia ten years ago, and now lives in Austinmer. She has written poetry for most of her life, though she only began writing for publication a few years ago. Lindsay is interested in the relationship between language and place, especially vanished or vanishing places: those that exist now only in the memories of the people who once lived there. Her poetry has been published in HEAT and as part of The Red Room Company’s Dust Poems and Unlocked projects. In 2009, her work was awarded second prize in the Val Vallis Award for Poetry.
