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]

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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?

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11 Unofficial Bewitchery

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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.

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[Prompt: Mid-summer — the time of year that calendula is picked by witches]

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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!

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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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