Poetry | September 01, 2010
Poetry Feature: Maureen Seaton
Maureen Seaton
Featuring the poems:
-
When I Was the Virgin of Westchester
-
When I Was The Donna Reed Show
-
When I Was Infertile
-
Metastasis (featured as Poem of the Week, Nov. 11, 2010)
-
Helplessly Hetero
Metastasis
(Gilbert’s Bar House of Refuge, Hutchinson Island)
When the glaciers armied through Florida, like anywhere else, they left a mess of rocks and sand and animal bones behind them. They did this peacefully over a long period of time, and the animals felt peaceful as they died in the crush of ancient cold, and present-day sea creatures poking through deserted coral remember nothing of those faraway deaths. Yet when the moon presses down on the Atlantic like the whole hard body of God, even the smallest worm on the reef will admit to hearing a moan in the ocean’s bed. And if you’re standing on shore past your bedtime, Northern creature warmer than you’ve ever been in winter, and the moonlight pins you like a moth to the side of the old sea-eaten hand-built bench, you can hear it too — you don’t want to, you shake your head against it, but it’s real and mixed up with every other sound that’s ever occurred up and down this killer beach.
If you are a student, faculty member, or staff member at an institution whose library subscribes to Project Muse, you can read this piece and the full archives of the Missouri Review for free. Check this list to see if your library is a Project Muse subscriber.
Want to read more?
Subscribe TodaySEE THE ISSUE
SUGGESTED CONTENT
Poetry
Jan 08 2024
3 Poems by Scott Frey
Pink Feather Boa She is pinching my son’s small thumb and index finger around the petals of a buttercup, chanting She loves me; she loves me not,… read more
Poetry
Jan 08 2024
5 Poems by Virginia Konchan
Apostrophe My husband didn’t understand prayer. He said people who pray are deranged. Who do they think they’re talking to? Even with Bluetooth technology, do they not know how ridiculous… read more
Poetry
Jan 08 2024
5 Poems by Christine Marshall
Fall My father put his head through a wall. Leaves fell in red and orange puddles, the house dropped on the market. After-school sunlight dwindled, the solstice loomed. My child… read more