Published: September 19th, 2016
Within: Delphi Series Vol. 3
Francine Rubin is the author of the poetry chapbook Geometries (Finishing Line Press) and the pamphlet The Last Ballet Class (Neon). Her poems have also appeared in more than forty publications including Border Crossing, Fringe Magazine, Pank, Red Rock Review, Two Thirds North, and Watershed Review.
Growing up in New York, she trained at the School of American Ballet, occasionally worked as a freelance dancer, and taught ballet to children and adults for five years. She holds degrees from Dartmouth College, Emerson College, and Columbia University, and works as the Director of Academic Support at Roxbury Community College in Massachusetts. Online, she is at http://francinerubin.tumblr.com.
Your scorched eyes, your brain pulsing
continually, ingesting image image image
with each shock of light: snuff out sparks, fluorescents,
neons, screens, computers, tvs, fires, suns
to luxuriate in priceless darkness. Work
by the song and direction of voice.
Meetings brim with dialogue, one voice
at a time, and everyone memorizes
each other’s sounds. The world becomes smaller:
no planes, boats, cars, bicycles. We travel by foot,
one hand stretched before us to feel for trees,
buildings, abandoned cars; the other hand clasps
another’s hand, so we walk together. Sometimes
we are alone in the dark, but it does not scare us.
We sleep when our bodies are tired. We awaken
when we are ready to feel.