This week’s assortment!
the plum forgotten in the refrigerator
softens and dissolves.
I retrieve it. I grieve it. I toss it to the ants.
what a manicure job and I watch it perform a
on the glass countertop of the jewelry display case
Her fingers on the keys of the flute strangle the tune
the dead weight of its corpse compresses the very air
Those lessons were a waste all right.
we hear the rasping voice of a knife in the kitchen
here in the dining room where we wait
dinner sits uneasy in our stomachs
The hope in saying goodbye is always
that in the next place
we will not have to do it again
in this drizzly night sky
wobbles in the streetlights’ glow
I am crying
behind my rain-streaked glasses
and no one knows
you click the clasp on the necklace
on the first try.
you are not a nervous bride.
I need to think
in small pieces
I try out different voices.
Recognize none of them. Approve of all of them.
I let them loose. Revel in the fracas.
feel the shapes. hear the shapes. obey the shapes.
Oh you impetuous laundromat mob of shiny
baking my bedsheets and shrinking my socks
burning out the elastic in every pair of
underwear I own
You are disappointed.
The bathtub and I watch you cry
in the mirror over the sink.
Do you think it’s a portent
or is it just a bad dream
coming to rest at last
Where did it come from
This big mess that suddenly we’re in –
Accident or luck?
Trembling, I approach the washer
I raise my offering of filthy clothes
before its unblinking Cyclops eye
the postcard forwarded to the trash
its message reads Dear Helen:
(ketchup smears) (coffee grounds) (grease spots)
Please wait. Room 1818.
Wait there. In Room 1818. Wait. There. Please.
hidden in the dense foliage
holds four cracked and oozing eggs
the saturated jungle vegetation
the soft rotted soil it grows in
the heat the insects the alien cries
of my GPS in its bewildered distress
a man and a martini or two
who said they had car trouble
up on the highway
the ocean somersaults
across the sand
the beach giggles
smears the air
leaves a stain on my memory
7 thoughts on “Little Vines 5/27/22”
So many of these I can relate to! #5876 caused me to recall a friend who enlisted in the military right out of HS, #5881 made me laugh, #5885 made me sad…. You’ve pulled me through an emotional gauntlet with these little vines today!
I really enjoy seeing which ones people enjoy, and hearing their reasons why. I especially like it that they evoke memories but my favorite is when you say you laughed! Thank you.
Many poignant ones, many funny. Loved it.
Thank you. I always am pleased when a reader says there is emotion evoked upon reading what I wrote. Means a lot to me what you said. Thank you.
There is a thread of loss and departures throughout this collection of LVs. I wondered if the first poem was inspired by a reply to William Carlos Williams’ ‘This is Just to Say’.
I know that poem, but I was not thinking of it here, but rather, about someone I overheard mentioning a forgotten plum in the fridge (they didn’t say more) and that sent my mind into thinking about what it might all lead to…
Comments are closed.