Poetry

Anniversary

By on Feb 13, 2018 in Poetry | 10 comments

  Remember how I used to scrape off irritating little bumps as if perfect attainment of a suppler, less eventful shape, a peace at the expense of love, and armchair grace, had quite become      a sort of holy grail?   The day I finally attained the perfect peace I’d sought, I heard a voice from somewhere that explained the living’s really in the lumps.           I was struck dumb      but thought the thought...

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The Second to the Last Time

By on Feb 12, 2018 in Poetry | Comments Off

when the moon was full and I wore my navy silk pants / and my car got stuck in your driveway and I read poems on your rug naked / the space heater warming my ass / and you said I was a cat in another life and I laughed because I knew I was really a dog / willing to be kicked and come back for more / and after the sex and the sounds we walked the mountain roads / snow and silence / it’s easy to feel alone when you’re holding someone’s hand / we walked fast because our legs were cold / and I remembered a movie scene of a woman leaning over a railing to wave goodbye to her lover / I...

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A Character from Proust

By on Feb 12, 2018 in Poetry | Comments Off

He finds that Habit holds too close and holds too tight. “Let go,” He thinks, “I have my breath to catch. What started as a waltz Is now this marathon. I fold within your tireless arms. You were attractive at first. We seemed to fit. Now I cannot recall Your absence. Whatever tawdry witch has cast her spell, I implore To raise her wand. I am too weak now Panic nears. Am I never to guide and be guided by Joy, that radiant other Whose classic head, unknowing of my plight, Rounds into mocking view too often to be chance?” Now he believes that from the start He should have partnered The...

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My Favorite Flower

By on Feb 12, 2018 in Poetry | Comments Off

has a brilliant aureole that scares all the bees away. Her scent is so intoxicating— I can’t walk a straight line. My mean-spirited grandmother warns: “She talks too much, and her boobs are too big” When she comes into view with her three-legged calico cat, the earth stops spinning— tides grind to a halt, stars fall from the sky and light up the dark corners of the world. The sun no longer sets, and the man in the moon confesses—he’s always been nothing more than a figment of our imagination. When she’s near— birds tweet sweet melodies, pussy cats purr a drum roll, puppy...

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Octopus Love

By on Feb 3, 2018 in Poetry | Comments Off

“There should be room in the literature on octopuses for some exploration of the sensual, maybe even the emotional ways in which they communicate with us.” – Sy Montgomery, “The Soul of an Octopus” An octopus may recognize a man And let itself be petted like a cat, At least according to a woman Who gave a mollusk friendly pats As she tried to bridge a billion years, Looked longingly into the creature’s eye Behind a screen of glass and overcame the ancient fears. Hope-filled she sought to see into the shy, Discreet and modest being’s soul, Dispel the...

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Me and Chickens (Or My Life Experiences with Domestic Fowl)

By on Feb 3, 2018 in Poetry | Comments Off

Eggs a la Grandma, sunny-side up, slicked with bacon grease. Oozing pools of sunlight, sopped up with fresh bakery rolls, seasoned with family fealty. Grandpa egged us on: “How full are you?” “This full,” we’d answer, pointing to the middle of our foreheads; pink young things packed with egg-y stuffing. As a foil-covered, chocolate oval: the tastiest way to consume an egg. Do African farmers who harvest cocoa beans know what a chocolate egg tastes like? What if someone told them how much people pay for gourmet chocolate? Perhaps it’s better they never find out. Fluffy, puffy,...

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