Forgive me a little bragging about my mother’s day presents. They may not look like much, but as with people, what’s inside holds the most importance. Let’s open the book first. I read once that Jackie Kennedy had her children hand-copy and illustrate a poem every year for her birthday. These she kept in […]
MoreRarely does my neighborhood offer peculiar sights. There’s a walker who charges down the street with ski poles in the middle of summer and a very tall cross-dresser I haven’t seen in years. During swim team season toilet paper hangs gracefully from trees, and in the spring girls in prom dresses duck into limousines. That’s […]
MoreCould Have by Wislawa Szymborska It could have happened. It had to happen. It happened earlier. Later. Nearer. Farther off. It happened, but not to you. You were saved because you were the first. You were saved because you were the last. Alone. With others. On the right. The left. Because it was […]
MoreI keep poems I’ve copied and can’t use for my blog the way some people keep slices of meatloaf in the freezer—-why throw away what can be consumed later? I had dozens of poems leftover from my niece’s recent wedding (link here), two or three extra copies of poems I’d already written about, as […]
MoreA quickie post while I figure out what poem I’ll post next and where I’ll put it. My daughter sent me a video I want to share. The title, “Free to Be You and Me,” sounds like a coloring book for a self-esteem presentation. Self esteem presentations make me gag. But I didn’t gag […]
MoreIf you haven’t heard, April is National Poetry Month. Let the celebration begin. Whoop-di-doo. Let your inbox fill with unread poem-a-day emails. Let national magazines feature a token article about the relevancy of poetry. Let teachers assign haikus and limericks to display in cinder block hallways. Let the New York Times hand […]
MoreMeeting the Light Completely by Jane Hirshfield Even the long-beloved was once an unrecognized stranger. Just so, the chipped lip of a blue-glazed cup, blown field of a yellow curtain, might also, flooding and falling, ruin your heart. A table painted with roses. An empty clothesline. Each time, the […]
MoreToday I read an article in the latest Rolling Stone about roaming packs of wild dogs in Detroit. With little money for animal control and deserted buildings, empty lots, and a declining human population, Detroit is being overrun with stray dogs. (You can link to the article here.) The writer visits one abandoned home filled […]
MoreI don’t often have the chance to monitor my poem-elfings once they’re up. I do wonder what happens to the poems I’ve left behind, but I don’t pursue my curiosity. It’s the fate of former boyfriends in the pre-Facebook age. They may have grown bald, fat and alcoholic, but we used to be […]
MoreInterim by Ruth Stone Like the radiator that sits in the kitchen passing gas; like the mop with its head on the floor, weeping; or the poinsettia that pretends its leaves are flowers; the cheap paint peels off the steamed walls. When you have nothing to say, the sadness of things speaks for […]
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