Pangaea in Her
It’s every writer’s favorite smell,
like Barnes and Noble
or hole in the wall used book stores—
paper and pages
wedged in between whiffs
of nostalgia, dust moths
and memories,
Prompt Poem of the Month
Audio, Poems, Prompt Poem of the Month
Poem in Which I Inspect the Fabric Care Label
after Denise Duhamel I never noticed the tag sewn discretely behind my knee. I guess my mother was afraid to
Injustice
The beautifullest bird’s the pigeon,
but “pigeon” doesn’t rhyme with “love,”
so poems praising love, religion,
or nature all ignore the pigeon.
All the Fixings
My grandmother saved the butts.
The butt of every bread loaf
went into the freezer for stuffing.
One stale loaf makes 8-10 servings.
Chicken, duck and turkey butts
were saved for stock,
onion and celery butts, too.
Roasted, they result in richer flavor.
Ruderal
It was a life spent, mostly
stooped over things.
The counter at the butcher’s shop
her parents owned,
all through both wars,
wrapping bacon in brown paper parcels
as bombs fell
and far away, men she loved
were shot at
Abyss
The word shadowed the lines
of a friend’s poem just as
it had found its way
into others he shared.
He said that he was the last Romantic poet
and I politely nodded.