E. C. Messer

Photograph of Alice Pleasance Liddell, 1858

Her bisque head grows
in the Garden of Live Dolls,

toes fidget with the stems
of morning glories, nasturtiums, ivy,
some creeping plant.

I remember―
           two twos are four,
           two threes are six,
           two fours are eight.

Charlie’s beggar-maid,
his little rat

           two fives are ten

(before Marie van Goethem,
La Petite Danseuse de Quatorze Ans―
wax, plaster, bronze―

so continental
in real cotton skirt
and hair ribbon).

A dragon-catcher whisps by,

           What is that trumpeted
           ground flower?
           Do you remember your plants
           as well as your numbers?

it sticks in the flypaper―

silly yellow pistil,
silly tight red throat.

           three threes are nine,
           three fours are twelve,
           yes, yes, I remember.

A beetle swaps its topcoat
for her nostrils,
her little black dots
of breath,

           I really don’t care for maths,

her clavicle and scapula,
her six-year-old knees.




E.C. Messer lives in the sunniest part of San Francisco with her husband and four cats. Follow her on Twitter @ecmesser. 
She would like very much to know you.




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