susanstinson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
susanstinson) wrote2006-07-26 09:10 am
susanstinson) wrote2006-07-26 09:10 am
Peaches in July
Praise for the fat old ladies.
Praise our bristles.
Praise our groaning in the morning
as we negotiate our nightgowns,
appliances and pills.
Praise the unquenchable carnality
of our coughs, full of moist depths,
and the way our mouths hang open
and our faces converge in gatherings
of ineffectual concentration
as we give another round of dominoes
our (impure? because, after all,
competititive and human) best thoughts.
We lose, of course, but play again.
The nightgown tears on the seam above the breast,
but we wear it, still, unmended,
while young women make big curls
in their hair with juice cans,
the results glossy and time-consuming,
as if the war were never over and
victory gardens were all lucky girls might sow.
Lake Buchanan, TX 2006
Praise our bristles.
Praise our groaning in the morning
as we negotiate our nightgowns,
appliances and pills.
Praise the unquenchable carnality
of our coughs, full of moist depths,
and the way our mouths hang open
and our faces converge in gatherings
of ineffectual concentration
as we give another round of dominoes
our (impure? because, after all,
competititive and human) best thoughts.
We lose, of course, but play again.
The nightgown tears on the seam above the breast,
but we wear it, still, unmended,
while young women make big curls
in their hair with juice cans,
the results glossy and time-consuming,
as if the war were never over and
victory gardens were all lucky girls might sow.
Lake Buchanan, TX 2006
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Boy did that piece debut to a resounding silence. :)
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victory gardens were all lucky girls might sow." because it reminds me of catching something your Mum says in hushed tones to one of her friends when you're a kid that you nearly understand.
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Peaches
by Peter Davison
A mouthful of language to swallow:
stretches of beach, sweet clinches,
breaches in walls, bleached branches;
britches hauled over haunches;
hunches leeches, wrenched teachers.
What English can do: ransack
the warmth that chuckles beneath
fuzzed surfaces, smooth velvet
richness, splashy juices.
I beseech you, peach,
clench me into the sweetness
of your reaches.
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(Anonymous) 2006-07-26 01:52 pm (UTC)(link)oh, oops
Re: oh, oops
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Thank You!
As a fat bristly old groaner, I salute your brilliance.
Re: Thank You!
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