Brian Wallace Baker
Editor’s Note from Ian O’Brien: I first discovered Brian’s poetry through a prose poem he had published in the Lindenwood Review earlier this year. I was instantly struck by his voice and his imagery: he not only takes us to interesting places, but he often comes to them from a side-angle. He has an ability to get to the heart of something in an offbeat way, which I think gives his writing an originality. In these three poems, which I encourage you to read again and again, Brian captures tender, small moments of parenthood that, when returned to, unveil huge meaning. His poems, like photographs, offer snapshots not only of tiny domestic moments, but also whole landscapes of themes and ideas..
Three Months Old Today
your whirlpool eyes
cannot gape wide
enough to immerse
the fullness
of your wonder
open your mouth too
as wide as you can
become a whale shark
inhale millions of tiny moments
in this time
before fishing boats
and giant hooks
kick your way through
cool salt and sun sparkle
of a brand new ocean
Coloring with My Daughter Twenty-five Years After a Friend Convinced Me I Couldn’t
Like a “Girl Color”
long buttersmooth arcs across
the coloring book page beautiful
despite not remaining within the lines beautiful
despite not being the correct color
for a cartoon dachshund
gosh isnt purple beautiful
isnt purple the most beautiful
color in the world
Foundation
My daughter reaches over her head and blindly selects from her mother’s drawer a trifold of thin cardboard, featuring a model without mole or fly-away hair, with cheekbones as sharp as ice shelves, whose lips half-bloom to kiss the air. Naked narrow shoulders slope down to the summits of narrow arms. A shallow chest descends to the northern borders of sand dune breasts. Inside hides a sampling of every acceptable version of female skin, even tones to clothe unevenness. My daughter does not unfold the cardboard. She studies the woman on the front like a map she cannot read, teetering on her tiny legs as if at the edge of a precipice.
Brian Wallace Baker is a poet and essayist from Erda, Utah, who holds an MFA from Western Kentucky University. His writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Little Patuxent Review, River Teeth’s Beautiful Things column, Split Lip Magazine, Whale Road Review, and elsewhere. You can find him on Twitter @bbrianwallace.
