Sculptor's Warehouse
Liza Katz

Sculptor's Warehouse

Now that their prettier sisters
have been sent off to better
benefactors, the plaster molds
founder among floorboards.
They make no sense out of context,
lacking the clavicle necklace,
razor-clam cheekbones. The hollow
pendant, the sense of purpose.
My sister, I wonder what you made of me
when like an egg I broke as you emerged.
Apart from you now, I hold like a geode,
baring crystalline teeth, a gaping caverna.
Can’t you see the plaster scraps across my floor
are merely the breakage borne of my tensile strength.

Liza Katz

teaches English as a second language in New Jersey. Her poems and essays have appeared in Poet Lore, Omniverse, The Critical Flame, and other journals.