Poems by Joan Canby

by

Ego

Right blade in a pair of scissors,

left sock of a pair of gray argyles,

middle cushion in the sofa,

second step in the stepladder,

middle C not B sharp, each one

thinks it is the one most necessary.

 

Untitled

Grasshopper eats my orange tree,

villain of my garden –

forgive him too?

 

Joan Canby is a graduate of Vermont College
of Fine Arts and now lives in Texas.