Scanning the desert of a tabletop,
suave falsehood of wallpaper,
the smoke alarm hovers
austere as an eye,
reassuring as a phone number
memorized in childhood—
then numbers lose
their corpulent charm,
sirens their small-town blare,
rescue turning Prime Time
and fire, a living thing,
ready to thrive.
By Lynn McGee
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Lynn McGee's poetry chapbook, Bonanza, http://www.writerscenter.org/bonanza.html, won the Slapering Hol national manuscript contest. Her work has appeared in the Kennesaw Review, Ontario Review, Northwest Review, Painted Bride Quarterly, Phoebe, Laurel Review and many other journals. A winner of the Judith’s Room and In Our Own Write contests in New York City, a MacDowell fellowship and other awards, Lynn earned an MFA in Poetry from Columbia University.
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