Not Me Bolsters
I am a stress fractured
tibia
unable to support body
weight
forward momentum
terminated
Not Me is an air cast
compressing broken bits
cushioning each new step
Not Me Bolsters
I am a stress fractured
tibia
unable to support body
weight
forward momentum
terminated
Not Me is an air cast
compressing broken bits
cushioning each new step
Not Me Swells like Mahler’s Symphony Number Two, the Fifth Movement
I am a flat line⎹ precise graphite⎹ mark on page
Not Me begins as nightingale flute call
to which a mourning dove sighs a reply
first solo, then duet of grief, then the full choir is mummering
now the strings are shedding tears, now the horns are wailing
now the whole orchestra interludes in ascending scales
climbing from whip-poor-will weeping to meadow lark’s trill
next organ interjects, holding onto a clarion hawk cry
finally, the cathedral bells chime their dawn greeting song
―――――
Informed by “Mahler Listening Guide Symphony no. 2 in C Minor (“Resurrection”)”
Bettie Jo Basinger https://utahsymphony.org/explore/2014/11/mahler-2-listening-guide/
Not Me is Steady
chuga-chuga steam whistles out my
ears / I am loco-motive forward motion
racing rails in a rush to build up thrill /
Not-Me is a piling driven thirty feet deep
Support structure securing pier through
storms / Stable despite waves beatings
Wooden planks are made to
break away under pressure
Timbers are meant to set
into ocean-floor muck
endure salty sea air
while the Strongmen pump iron
we will groom each others nails
every color of the spectrum welcome
if he wants Hot Pink Flamethrower
if she needs Goth Black Funeral
if they seek Drop Green Fabulous
then there it is
while the Strongmen flex
we will stylize
every fancy tickled
if he wants hearts and glitter
if she needs skulls and daggers
if they seek beads and rhinestones
then let it be
and for those expressing manicures
neatly trimmed
lightly buffed
unadorned
then that too can be accommodated
Photo by Shabakin |
Two herders one red merle with copper white trim
the other Aussie Shepherd black with blue swirls
red is larger than black&blue less intense than little
I’ve seen them on runs leashes at maximum extension
little leading big by a nose
Today they are in Sit position at their person’s feet
she’s scrolling a screen they’re staring down a path
which I walk along then glancing back
try to line up their gaze with an object
rabbit or squirrel or bird of gripping interest
They’re mirror expressions as they scan passersby
playing their intent eyes over features
dismissing strangers seeking familiar
looking for a known pattern
gait, scent, hair, shape composing Theirs
Turning away I wonder if that’s my look at work
focused on dual monitors data streaming by
letting formulas filter numbers for me
until a meaningful trend emerges
my accounting brain wags
photo by Tom Cochrane |
Victory Dance
I’m exultant on my in-laws’ upper landing
daylight trying to reach me through staircase window
glass expanse from midway landing to crown molding
wooden floorboards creak beneath me
in front of my husband’s boyhood bedroom
where we live
I’m celebrating an acceptance
a paper I’ll present to academics at a conference
like I’ve thought thoughts that will make me famous
swing fists in front of hips
pulse together twice without touching
thrust hips backwards in time to pulses
then swing fists behind hips
pulse together twice without touching
thrust hips forward in time to pulses
like I wrote words upending scholarly worlds
“I’m a rockstar, Baby” I belt shamelessly
cheeks-flushed triumphant adjacent to the light