bio

art by jared barbick

Jamie Asae FitzGerald's poetry has appeared in Speechless, Fulcrum, Ariel, LORE and Snow Monkey, and has been part of the King County Poetry on the Buses Project. She was the recipient of an Academy of American Poets College Prize. While in the MFA program at San Diego State University, she co-directed the reading series WHACKJOB!, and taught creative writing, literature, and composition. Originally from Hawaii, she now lives and writes in Los Angeles where she works as California Program Associate for Poets & Writers, Inc.

The Cannibal

I once tried
to drown hunger in wine.
It didn't work.
 
Now I spend hours
making perfume rise from pans,
scent of mirin and soy,
browned almonds and butter.
 
I've taken out the silver,
set all fine things
on crisp linen.
 
I've made a meal
with every ounce of lust.
 
Still it can't compare
to dining on the divine
dust of a neck
or tender hands of an artist.

copyright 2007 Jamie Asae FitzGerald

Black and White

Ever since pneumonia
the blues follow me around,
shadowed by vampire phlebotomists
with silver needle teeth.
 
Late afternoon sun casts the city
in black and white, and I am trapped
in a film noir version of a life
without mystery.
 
There is longing and desire
for uncommitted crimes, a weapon
that doesn't yet exist.

copyright 2007 Jamie Asae FitzGerald

The Turtle

You blend in with stones
algae, rock—I know
if I picked you up
you'd be cool to touch.

Your head would retract
and your elephant paws
would fin the air
with a noiseless grace.

In the water, those soft
elegant feet sway like palms
do a rond de jambe
to make your body glide.

I want to be you—
a stone with a soul
suspended in the pond
tip of nose touching air—

you near the pollen-flecked pool
stark still on a warm rock
light, fish and plant
trembling around you.

(First appeared in Speechless.)

copyright 2007 Jamie Asae FitzGerald