NaPoMo 2010: Poems 8-14

13 and 14 are being held hostage somewhere in this computer.  I will attempt to ransom them eventually.
 
12  Dear Heidi, [Explanation From a Friend]
.
Yes, I could have said all this over ale and focaccia
at Papa Razzi’s, but it was more fun to talk books.
It’s simple: Take everything you know about me.
Now strip away poetry. Add haughty edicts that
retro passive resister sistahs like me should “know.”
Remove the belief that I might have an idea once
every now and again that has merit.  Assume “we
women” think and feel alike — or should.  Last,
remove my face from your sight for years, years,
and more years.  Now you are my blood sister.
How does it feel compared to truer kinship?
.
11 Unofficial Bewitchery
.
We piled in a car and went to Salem
–a punker, Ophelia, and the scarlet-
lipped woman Terminator.  Wax witches
pressed under papier mache stones
were scarier than the live hands
grabbing from the shadows.  I see
better in the dark.  We walked
through the famously gabled house,
bought pentacle penny keychains,
accepted mulled cider from wenches,
but the official witch never showed up.
I had to settle for amateurish attempts
at love, sipping tea made from calendula
while sleeping with a borrowed man.
.
[Prompt: Mid-summer — the time of year that calendula is picked by witches]
.
10   Well, that’s two !***% poems this week.  Sorry, won’t post.
Since there’s no poem today, I’ll use the space to say how much fun I had at Boston’s 10th Poetry Festival.  56 poets in two days.  Thank you to the open-mic audience!!  Harris Gardner, you rock!
.
9 That’s Italian!

Back in the days when, the baddest men
on Earth were Italian.  De Niro was
the godfather of baaad, and Travolta

da-aaanced!  Even in Dorchester, no one
blamed Athena, ebony goddess with
illegal curves, for loving a Ferzoco twin.

Slick-haired, thick-browed, golden tan.
He wasn’t White.  He was Italian.
So we middle-aged teachers lined up

on Hanover, drooling over pastel cookies,
thinking of that New Year’s Eve a closed
cafe re-opened for four sad undergrads.

The espresso machine was fired up,
tiramisu and chocolate thawed us out.
North Enders.  As good as they look!

[Prompt: Italian Americana]


8 Will appear here if/when I can fix the techno prob.




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