Poetry: Robin Kozak

Read More: A brief interview with Robin Kozak

Honey Bee, Lanikai

It had lost its way, mistaking
the colors for the flowers.

On my mons it sat,
testing the fabric

as if it were the comb.
At eye level the mokes

were ochre, and where the sea
scrubbed the upthrust cliffs

I saw a thin green line
wavering
on the water, a pellucid ribbon

where the sun drowned itself
every night. The sun drowned

itself again as we watched,
doubling
in the shutters of the bee’s many-prismed eyes

the spectacle of coals and fire, the shiny copies
of The Celestine Prophecy

that were in every hand that year.
And for the moment

he seemed content to linger
on the violet target, the golden flecks which had tricked

him into stopping,
and contemplate extinction.

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Kailua Blue

The china is just one part.
The color is another,

neither green nor blue, generous
helpings of both. Venus

by Tintoretto: lame Hephaestus
checks his wife for evidence,

plucking the covers from her loins

as the incoming
president will vet his subjects,

find them wanting every time.
It is the ancient law – the crime […]


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  untitled

Timber Lorries

Magnolia, Arkansas

They make the music of the spheres
If you listen long enough, here

Where distances are vast.
Insomniac, the highway vibrates, […]


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Robin Kozak’s writing has appeared or is upcoming in Antioch Review, Arkansas Review, Crazyhorse, Field, The Gettysburg Review, Hotel Amerika, Indiana Review, Poetry Northwest, Witness, and other publications. Among her awards are two Creative Artist Program grants from the city of Houston and the 2016 Sandy Crimmins Prize for Poetry. An authority on antique and estate jewelry, she has also recently completed a novel, The Kingdom It Would Be.

Read More: A brief interview with Robin Kozak