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Monthly Archives: August 2020
High Lights
1945 celebrated first birthday, father got out of Army; 1950 wrote a poem about Bobby Snowflake who lived on a cloud; 1955 skipped rope; 1960 dressed in black, lost virginity to man from Haiti, went off to college; 1965 married … Continue reading
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How to Be a Nymphomaniac
First, announce you believe in free love. Then, lose your virginity to a man you pick up on Bleeker Street. If it’s a little disappointing don’t worry just try harder and make noise. Go away to college and sleep with … Continue reading
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The Glass is Empty Again
I fill it all people do is drink don’t they get tired of being thirsty? they need to fill their own pails for a change pump their own water see how they like it water pigs snuffling at the well … Continue reading
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Bad Recipe
Cooking when you are anxious And distracted Is a recipe for failure I have proof Right this minute Looking at the spreading pool of batter On the oven floor. I have made biscotti a million times Sometimes the almonds weren’t … Continue reading
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I’m Going to End it All
Not Never My father-in-law shot himself I wasn’t there Just in the same town He left a business-like note Covered the basement floor with a plastic sheet Stood in the center My husband found him When he went for a … Continue reading
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Some Deadly Sins
I am hallowed by heat, can’t beat that lustful desire to swallow love whole feed me more, I implore a glutton knows no less let it be a lesson to you no forgiveness my greed comes from flagrant need always … Continue reading
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Regret Me
This is what I am, what I want bird bones and feathers the calling of wind; a cage swinging wild in the storm filled with crows. When mourners come singing their sorrow I sing back whistling through the teeth of … Continue reading
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Rain Cometh
It’s coming down hard After two weeks of dry scraping weather where Grass turned to wheat stalks Flowers toppled with thirst and Even the weeds looked bad. Today rain daps and ripples the lake Plays fast taps on the porch … Continue reading
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Hunting Season
Every fall hunters come to shoot ducks Set up little houses on the lake Supposed to look like flotsam Random confluences of twigs and brambles through which They stick the ends of their rifles. The ducks ignore these huts Flock … Continue reading
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