Category Archives: poetry

Pugly

What’s in it for me Snarls the dog nasty as hell I ain’t gonna do shit just to be nice I ain’t ice I’m warm blooded hot blooded ready by twice I gotta get My pound of sweat My ton … Continue reading

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I Was Harried

out the garden by spiders and crawling folksies, me squatting crosslegged by the bee balm wearing catscratch outfit sunhat deadheading flowers digging clover brilliant overhead birds talking geese on another side of the lake, I dozed off by hypnotic insects … Continue reading

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Standing With Izzy In

a garden of unfamiliar flowers although I must have planted them all, some year or another: they didn’t get here by themselves; perhaps I was at a sale and picked a chancy bulb, a likely looking leafy thing dug a … Continue reading

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When I Am Awake

In the middle of the night Izzy the cat sits and meows at me; she sounds like I feel. I make soothsome noises; she keeps calling, wants me to open the front door even though there is a fine cat … Continue reading

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Sporting Life

My husband has taken up knife throwing, All our trees have giant wooden targets roped to trunks pretending it is an art installation I am pursuing the sport of poetry throwing aim sestinas into the lake, six points for each … Continue reading

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Dawn of the Dead

You have to be dainty In the dark morning all groggy and barefoot Because stepping on a dead mouse Is a terrible way to wake up Especially if you haven’t had coffee You shriek with gritted teeth And hop on … Continue reading

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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 should emulate a cactus or a dry dusty dromedary. they need to fill their own pails for a change pump their own water see … 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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