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Monday's Poem

© 2014 by Lisa Shatzky

Lisa Shatzky's poetry has been published in The Vancouver Review, Room Magazine, Quills Canadian Poetry Magazine, The Nashwaak Review, Antigonish Review, The Dalhousie Review, Canadian Literature, Canadian Woman's Studies, The Prairie Journal, Jones Av., The New Quarterly, Monday's Poem, and six chapbooks by Leaf Press (edited by Patrick Lane) along with anthologies across Canada and the US. Her most recent poetry book Blame it on the Moon was published by Black Moss Press. Her poetry book Do Not Call Me By My Name, also published by Black Moss Press, was shortlisted for the Gerald Lampert Poetry Award. Shatzky has also had prose published in Living Artfully: Reflections from the Far West Coast (Key Publishing, 2012) as well as poetry in This Island We Celebrate, published by the Bowen Island Arts Council in 2013. Shatzky has two new collections of poetry to be published in 2015 called When the Butterflies Cry and The Sound of the Bell Before It Rings. When not writing she works as a psychotherapist on Bowen Island, BC, where she lives on a boat with her partner Don, her teenagers, and various animals.

"If I Could French Kiss You" was published in Quills Canadian Poetry Magazine, the erotica edition.

If I Could French Kiss You

If I could French kiss you
the way those Quebec boys taught me
in my youth, my tongue searching the sailor's
wide ocean of your mouth and if I could be
sure it would not lead to anything
beyond the moment, that you would not be left
wanting something more or need it to be real
or that you would not ask to meet me
by the river's edge where the sun
makes love to the water and if I could be
sure you would not want to cover every inch
of my skin with your lips and that you would not
ask for this exploding summer delight to last
through winter's long inevitable grip
or you would not expect moonlit
walks where our bodies come together
like music, like colours, like sound,

if I knew for certain you would not ask
for anything more,
then yes, yes, I would, I would.
I would kiss you as if it was
the last day of my life.
But I don't trust you.
Not even for a second.
Nor do I trust myself.

about us ::: guidelines ::: contact ::: order ::: chapbooks ::: Monday's Poem