a poetry e-zine










Poems By Agatha Sugar
You, As I Knew You

I have taught my eyes not to search you out
But hardening deliberately doesn’t sound like me
And you know me
So my teeth grind as my heart becomes
A museum

You can’t eat in a museum
And you can’t really wear splatter-painted jeans
This makes me sad, like many things,
But if my eyes search you out
Then they search for you, as I knew you

And return to me
Dove without branch, for there is no shore
And you don’t exist anymore

Agatha Sugar flew Frontier Airlines from Atlanta, Georgia to Anchorage, Alaska on August 2, 2006, carrying only two suitcases, her Rat Terrier, Pierre, a heart full of sorrow, and a head full of dreams. There she pursues her life’s ambition of becoming a great poet. She has recently joined the staff of a local GLBT literary magazine, The Naked Ptarmigan, where her first published poem appeared in September 2007.

Copyright 2007  Chantarelle's Notebook