Chapters (65)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- ONE
- First Kiss
- Stolen Moments
- Blues for Dante Alighieri
- What Was
- So What
- 31-Year-Old Lover
- Muse
- You Don’t Know What Love Is
- Blues for Roberto
- Ever After: A Paradelle
- Sonnenizio on a Line from Drayton
- Ex-boyfriends
- Dance
- TWO
- Death Poem
- Scary Movies
- Dead Girls
- Echo and Narcissus
- Eating Together
- Cat Poem
- Noir
- February 14
- And Then I Woke Up
- In Dreams
- The Work
- Fever Blues
- Washing
- THREE
- It
- Knowledge
- California Street
- The Way of the World
- Dear Sir or Madam
- One Nation Under God
- Chicken
- Missing Boy Blues
- Human Nature
- FOUR
- Lush Life
- Bad Girl
- ’Round Midnight
- South of the Border
- Body and Soul
- Blues for Robert Johnson
- This Poem Wants to Be a Rock and Roll Song So Bad
- Bugdom
- This Poem Is In Recovery
- FIVE
- Dear Reader
- On Knocking Over My Glass While Reading Sharon Olds
- Fuck
- Augury
- Proverbial
- Ceiling
- Conversation
- Romance
- Miniatures
- Kisses
- Acknowledgments
- Also by Kim Addonizio
listening to the house settle,
looking down into the world
I had made, and could save.
Kisses
KISSES
All the kisses I’ve ever been given, today I feel them on my mouth.
And my knees feel them, the reckless ones placed there
through the holes in my jeans while I sat on a car hood
or a broken sofa in somebody’s basement, stoned, the way I was
in those days, still amazed that boys and even men would want to
lower their beautiful heads like horses drinking from a river and taste me.
The back of my neck feels them, my hair swept aside to expose the nape,
and my breasts tingle the way they did when my milk came in after the birth,
when I was swollen, and sleepless, and my daughter fed and fed until I pried
her from me and laid her in her crib. Even the chaste kisses that brushed
my cheeks, the fatherly ones on my forehead, I feel them rising up from underneath
the skin of the past, a delicate, roseate rash; and the ravishing ones, God,
I think of them and the filaments in my brain start buzzing crazily and flare out.
Every kiss is here somewhere, all over me like a fine, shiny grit, like I’m a pale
fish that’s been dipped in a thick swirl of raw egg and dragged through flour,
slid down into a deep skillet, into burning. Today I know I’ve lost no one.
My loves are here: wrists, eyelids, damp toes, all scars, and my mouth
pouring praises, still asking, saying kiss me; when I’m dead kiss this poem,
it needs you to know it goes on, give it your lovely mouth, your living tongue.
Acknowledgments
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ![]()
Grazie—for their generous criticism of this manuscript, and for being my love-dogs: Susan Browne, Cheryl Dumesnil, Lisa Glatt and David Hernandez, Dorianne Laux and Joe Millar, Ruth Schwartz. For all their support: Steve Huff and Thom Ward of BOA Editions. Much gratitude, for asking: Jill Bialosky. And for being my corner man, Rob McQuilkin.
Grateful acknowledgment is made to the editors of the following journals where many of these poems were published, sometimes in different versions: American Poetry Review, Atlanta Review, Bloomsbury Review, Chelsea, Cimarron Review, Connecticut Review, Denver Quarterly, Five Points, Iowa Review, Margie, Pearl, Poetry, Poetry International, Runes, Salt Hill, Threepenny Review, Water~Stone.
“Miniatures” was awarded first place in the Davoren Hanna Poetry Competition and first appeared online.
Also by Kim Addonizio
ALSO BY KIM ADDONIZIO
POETRY
Mortal Trash
My Black Angel: Blues Poems and Portraits
Lucifer at the Starlite
Tell Me
Jimmy & Rita
The Philosopher’s Club
FICTION
The Palace of Illusions (stories)
My Dreams Out in the Street
Little Beauties
In the Box Called Pleasure (stories)
NONFICTION
Bukowski in a Sundress
Ordinary Genius: A Guide for the Poet Within
The Poet’s Companion: A Guide to the Pleasures of Writing Poetry (with Dorianne Laux)
ANTHOLOGY