bio

art by leigh white

    Adrienne J. Odasso is currently completing her Ph.D. in English at the University of York (UK). Her poetry has appeared in a number of publications on both sides of the Atlantic, including Strong Verse, Aesthetica, Sybil's Garage, Succour, Farrago's Wainscot, The Liberal, Mythic Delirium, Jabberwocky, Cabinet des Fées, and Not One of Uswith new work forthcoming in Illumen, Dreams & Nightmares, Orbis, and others. Her short fiction has appeared in Behind the Wainscot, Expanded Horizons, and in anthologies from Hadley Rille Books and Drollerie Press. Her first full poetry collection, Lost Books, will be published by Flipped Eye Press in April 2010. Her first print chapbook, Devil's Road Down, is currently available from Maverick Duck Press. She has been nominated for the 2009 Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net Awards.
ajodasso@googlemail.com

Changeling

You say that what you'll always remember is the night
that I took you to see the sea monsters. After dark

in November, the water in the pond would freeze
just enough, pristine thin crème brûlée filled

with catfish, water sprites no bigger than my hands
put together. We fed them coffee beans and toffees

from Godiva till they skimmed across the surface
like caffeine-powered sledges. All for a lark.

And what I will always remember is the light
of the moon glinting off the ice, your tiny fingers

outstretched to catch our mingled laughter as it rolled
on the parched air. Life made frost, and simplest love

in spite of the biting cold.

copyright 2009 Adrienne J. Odasso

Grave Goods

We find a spotted volute not native
to these shores—but, nonetheless,
a needful thing. Small terracotta vases
in the shapes of pomegranates bear paint
in two tones, sport river-ducks tainted
with lead. Also: regard the tumbled stones
shot with veins of crystallized quartz
as signs of sure finesse. And these cups
formed of love and Somerset clay,
you must take them as firm indication
of good taste. This lady did not lay
herself down without thought of the long
years to come, for this stark syndication
of some deity—faceless, throatless—
seflessly held her, drank up her tears.

copyright 2009 Adrienne J. Odasso