“I tell you, the headache was awful” They sat there, waiting for me and sipping espresso, bickering like the old women that they were, creating such a noise that my head burned with what they hurled out: Demeter wanted to switch with Galatea and Artemis wanted to trade with the jaywalker; the white queen wanted […]
day 30 of MyNaPoWriMo (last day!) Read More »
untitled I will never forget watching that woman on TV with painted brows, her hair dyed right out from the department store bottle, her shoes clacking on the hard wood floor, blow a breezy kiss from the palm of her hand at her shackled son, tethered to the defense table; she raised a hand for
day 29 of MyNaPoWriMo Read More »
“to the girl who jaywalked in front of me in the rain” I wish nothing but your continued happiness even as you flip your fingers and scold me openly, your mascara thickly streaking the cheekbones and the jaw, lipstick smeared on the teeth – I wish you punctuality and the serenity that comes from knowing
day 28 of MyNaPoWriMo2011 Read More »
Girl who married in As fractured and complicated as a puzzle, she was the one with the smile that lingered long after she had left the room; we could always be certain of her, like death and taxes, never to talk back; no guise of a metaphor or a simile, always starving despite pronouncements with
day 27 of MyNaPoWriMo 2011 Read More »
What happened to the girl who disappeared She became a Fibonacci flower, the lowest on the totem, the strongest within coffee, satirical propaganda blared out before the cease fire; the burden of soot on a chimney, slang for a continent; another word for a bird’s capped head; a cool remnant of a white dwarf star;
day 26 of MyNaPoWriMo2011 Read More »
K. on Broadway She was the kind of girl who gathered like a storm, gaining momentum in every moment as she churned by the water’s edge, toes curling in the foam, her complexion perfect as the sun hid behind the bank of clouds, waiting for the next big event to present itself, give her another
day 25 of MyNaPoWriMo (write a poem a day) Read More »
Harpies don’t speak Hindi, either There are no words for thank you and goodbye in her language; no words for harpies in Hindi or what to say when they land with a thud on the rooftops and interrupt our lunch hour and fourth period. Here is what we don’t know about them, when we use
day 24 of MyNaPoWriMo (Write a poem a day) Read More »
Endora I loved her for her spunk, that flaming red hair, her unwillingness to concede that her witchery was anything less than a god- given right at eventual perfection; her prowess and ability to outwit the warlocks, her fun at the expense of her hapless mortal son-in-law; the best was when she’d pop in and
day 23 of MyNaPoWriMo 2011 Read More »
“Lucy in the sky with diamonds” Sherri was the one to steal her brother’s comic book, cut out the Peanut girl body and place it in the slideshow. The popular girls chatted and snickered while I tore through cellophane to make a plasticine porter; together we made a perfect grade for the team – rolling
day 22 of MyNaPoWriMo (write a poem a day) Read More »
“Precisionist” She learned the geometry first from painting skyscrapers, mathematics clean and focused like a camera lens — hers was a world void of condition, social or human, and soon danced the abstractions in front of her unblinking eye. Each winter, a pilgrim to New Mexico, she yearned to see the forest inside the desert
day 21 of MyNaPoWriMo 2011 (write a poem a day) Read More »
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