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Since 1996 Volume XXI

Naomi Ruth Lowinsky


Naomi Ruth Lowinsky’s poems have been widely published, most recently in in Minetta Review, Prick of the Spindle,  Whistling Shade, and Spillway.
Lowinsky’s fourth poetry collection is The Faust Woman Poems. Her memoir, The Sister from Below: When the Muse Gets Her Way tells stories about her pushy muse. She blogs about poetry and life at sisterfrombelow.com.


Dream of a City


If you are a dream disguised as a city   I’ve dreamt you so often

Dreamt water trance reflecting   the black prow slipping through


Dreamt that old dance with a single oar   over the glittering scales

of the always writhing  
                                                                                                                                            sea serpent    


Dreamt lion devoured me for love

of narrow passages ended by stone walls   sudden canals   someone’s footsteps

behind me


Dreamt water’s lilting loveliness   becoming land   becoming water

Dreamt night terrors in the lion’s mouth   eyes


in the back of their heads   punishing hand out of nowhere

Black wells of the Inquisition


Some say you’re a swamp   dressed up as a fancy lady

all feather boas and gilded mirrors


Some say you’re a fabrication   a city of stones stolen

from other people’s cities    


a flood pretending you are paradise

tied to a forest of long beams that pierce


the sea bottom   the always writhing serpent below

you floating   you moonchild   you changeling   playing


the tides   I think you are a masked ball     dancing to songs

our parents sang    before they’d even dreamt us


We laugh to see them   young couples   dressed for the glittering

night   gliding under old bridges   through the full circle


made by stone and its reflection   into this aging pair we have become

riding a water bus named “prima materia”


If you’re an enchantment   masquerading as a holiday

complete with fish market and sparkling wine 


I could be Aschenbach or Tadzio     remembering

my life as a woman     in somebody else’s dream


There is a garden     a fruit tree     a snake

                                                                        with the head of a woman


I could be Faust   surveying all the lands I’ve stolen

from the sea   yet lusting for that last holy sanctuary


with church bells   the old couple visited by gods

the black prow slipping through


our water trance     over the always writhing     

sea serpent



© Copyright, Naomi Ruth Lowinsky.
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