Peaches in July

[susanstinson]

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

Comments

[susanstinson.livejournal.com]

Maybe it kind of goes with your Baubo Dancing...

[angiereedgarner.livejournal.com]

I'd be flattered to think so.

Boy did that piece debut to a resounding silence. :)

[susanstinson.livejournal.com]

I was thinking this morning about hearing a really great, intense, challenging poem at a slam once, and how the listeners responded with silence, and the judges gave it a low rating because there was almost no hooting and applause and everyone struggled to grapple with it. Silence can be so complicated.

[angiereedgarner.livejournal.com]

So I try to believe. In person it is obvious when people are engaged but struggling-- it is written all over their bodies. It is hard work to stay in the presence of a piece of art of whatever sort that challenges.

[susanstinson.livejournal.com]

hard work, and also pleasure, and so worth it