The Scrimshaw Man 

Alone, he sits for hours at Enrico’s
carving splendid eagles into bone,
haunted by the wait-girl’s sad-soft smiling,
sliding off her clothes, the room aglow.

Carving splendid eagles into bone,
he’d laugh and think of her, the curve of moonlight
sliding off her clothes, the room aglow.
They never called each other by their names.

He’d laugh and think of her. The curve of moonlight
over coffee, tongues between their lips.
They never called each other by their names.
He kept her number, but his girlfriend called it —

over coffee: tongues between their lips.
Haunted by the wait-girl’s sad-soft smiling,
he kept her number. But his girlfriend called it.
Alone, he kills the hours at Enrico’s.

First published in Angle Poetry.

Siham Karami’s poetry and critical work has been published in such places as The Comstock Review, Able Muse, Tupelo Quarterly, Measure, The Rumpus, The Gay & Lesbian Review, Mezzo Cammin, Naugatuck River Review, and as featured poet in Orchards Poetry. A three-time Pushcart Prize and twice Best of the Net nominee, she blogs at sihamkarami.wordpress.com.

Why Poetry Matters:

Poetry is language’s legerdemain, its reproductive system, its courier of sonic and meaning interplay. It celebrates and refines the constant refresh of human discourse, incorporating it in new and imaginative ways into expressions of life and how we live it. People are by nature poetic. They seek meaning and passion, and language is still the best tool to achieve that, poetry being the apex. So yes, poetry matters, in a category beyond money: its value can’t be quantified and thus will not depreciate.