I dream of predictable shapes
and tessellate my house with floor tiles curving up walls
roof slates overlapping
and windows positioned to frame a chosen outside.
I fill space with Escher-like constructs
dovetail broken lines
exclude fissures where chaos might crawl
and quell my tedious but flimsy order.
My house is built against amorphous monsters
that live out there, in the garden or the forest beyond.
They call to me, compel me to seek them.
In braver moments, I aim to enlarge my territory.
In cowardly ones, I recoil behind a cloak of conceits
draw curtains, turn off the lights. Out-there threats
move into my mind. Whether I behave
as curious explorer or timorous dweller
I respond with fear to the fear that chokes me.
Marie-Andrée Auclair’s poems have appeared in many print and online publications, such as Bywords.ca (Canada), Sierra Nevada Review (US), Shot Glass Journal (US), NōD Magazine (Canada), The Frogmore Papers (UK) and Tokyo Poetry Journal (Japan). She lives in Canada and enjoys photography, traveling and dancing.
