Dogstar

by Annmarie O'Connor

I let you enter my orbit
you, the dogstar
firmly under my belt —
not Orion's.

You were mine — the brightest and most obedient
circling me
making me luminous.

I chose you
and you made me enchanted,
even rivalling Venus
a planet at that.

What could I do but hate you?
Offering me no resistance,
no friction, no burn.

I felt I hadn't earned you
Nor you my patronage.
So I gave you my crown
and left for brighter galaxies.

Annmarie O'Connor is a 29-year old writer. Originally from Long Island, New York and formally living in both Italy and Ireland, she now lives in London where she writes part-time and works full-time in film publishing. She completed her Master Thesis on the works of Douglas Coupland and holds an avid interest in postmodern theories about memory and identity in contemporary culture. Her poetry has been featured in Mslexia, Lexikon, Voyage, Snakeskin, The Gentle Reader, Purr and Scriobh and has gained her two concurrent nominations as International Poet of Merit. She contributes to ELLE, The Irish Independent, The Dubliner and The Greenwich VIllage Gazette.
Note: Featured Author for May 2001
E-mail: amsym4@hotmail.com
Writing interests: Poetry
I.D. Theory articles: "Morning Coffee" | "Dogstar"
Links: http://www.pfsc.org