Poems

The mutilation of misfortune

Lyna Galliara

Perhaps

The mutilation of misfortune
Has given me

Humility

In abundance

The vainer version

Of me

Would never

Have known

I’m now

Always conscious

Of being inadequate
And that

I believe

Somehow

Makes me

Better

These days

I find myself

Saying the word:

“Miracle”

Whenever I pet my dog

And

When thinking of all I’ve suffered

I sometimes say

With an equal lack of conscious-planning:

“I’m wonderful”

I guess I am



My dad wasn’t proud of me

But I think

Wilde and Chomsky

Would be


I’ve put my art
And my love

And my goodness

Before everything


I’ve been so strong

And that means that much more

For someone

So full

Of heart

Given the pain

That such a heart

Permits


I’m wonderful

And like my dog

I’m a miracle
And it only took
 me
Two months short

Of ten years
To find enough reason

To like myself again