Still-Life with Man


Today your mouth is a sepal scar,
your face, smooth peach
because you went and shaved it,
knowing I might comment,
knowing I might hold it
in my hands and tell you.
Yes, I like your presence.

I am afraid a still-life
is all I have to say.

I read about C├ęzanne last night
and dreamt about his apples,
the way their skin reflects the light,
a bowl of little moons. You do that,
you who made the bed,
the coffee while I wrote this.
Each pear becomes an ampersand
when you walk in the room.


Lissa Warren
holds a B.S. in English Education from Miami University and an M.F.A. in Creative Writing from Bennington College. Her poetry has appeared in such publications as Quarterly West, Oxford Magazine, Black Warrior Review, and Verse. She has worked in the publicity department of several prestigious Boston publishing houses including David R. Godine, Houghton Mifflin, and Perseus Publishing, and is currently Senior Director of Publicity at Da Capo Press, a member of the Perseus Books Group. Her own book, The Savvy Author’s Guide to Book Publicity, was published by Carroll and Graf in 2004