(then it didn't.)
She stayed with him.
(then she didn't.)
The world turned.
The sky was wide and clear
Like a blue fat girl with good skin.
The traffic was rosary beads
moving up one by one,
a honking, half-assed Rapture.
She attended classes.
(then she didn't.)
She was a February gray angel.
(then she wasn't.)
She went out, wearing a pink scarf
and black leather boots.
In a cafe, she met a blue fat girl.
She called her "zaftig."
She said, "You have a beautiful face."
She didn't consider her.
(then she did.)
Again, it snowed.
They went home together,
orbiting each other closely all the way down the street,
like a couple of she-gods
with aprons full
of catnip.
________
for dverse open link #32
This is just so damn cool. I love the rosary bead traffic and the half-assed Rapture!
ReplyDeleteGreat the way you work the parenthetical phrases here--like an echo machine that shoots bullets. I have no idea how you manage to constantly refresh your imagery in new ways--never fails to amaze me how fertile your brain is--the title alone is more of a poem than many people will ever write. And your gift for creating perfect, believable,living and breathing characters?--never better, Miss Show off. ;_)
ReplyDeleteJust when I had several hairs sprouting, too.
meow pussycat...like how you reconsider so often...smiles...The traffic was rosary beads
ReplyDeletemoving up one by one,
a honking, half-assed Rapture....is a frickin awesome description...all about the orbit and catnip...
Damned half-assed Rapture. If you can't do something right, then don't do it at all...
ReplyDeleteI couldn't say it any better than Hedgewitch. Your imagination IS amazingly fertile, and the title was drop-dead gorgeous.
ReplyDeleteerratic and impulsive, but then again, why not!
ReplyDeleteHope I can get this comment through ... another twisted fairy tale here that surfeits on the surreal for lack of anything to eat in the real. Sweet love story even if its book is lost in the snow. - Brendan
ReplyDeleteVery cool, Shay.
ReplyDeleteLove it! I have to be dim, though--was the girl blue, as in sad, or blue, as in the color? With your poetry, it could go either way!
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, I do believe that after over 29 haikus, I will be haiku-d out! I'll give them up for Lent (she says laughing)
I like the back and forth movement of this poem - the changes of direction, changes of mind - all working towards a decision at the end.
ReplyDeleteloved the traffic line
ReplyDeletezaftig .. one of my most favorite Yiddish words ...
ReplyDeleteThis is one poem that would be great to hear read aloud. Loved the characters! At least at the end she seems to have decided something!
ReplyDeleteAlways love your imagery, Shay. Beautiful. I'm glad Stripey wasn't near all that catnip! He'd overdose! :)
ReplyDeleteLovin' that third stanza. This poem feels a bit "naughty" for the beginning of Lent :) The on again (off again) is fun.
ReplyDeleteYour poetry always rocks - and this one is no exception, unless you consider that it rocks just a wee bit more for me because I can totally relate! Love it!
ReplyDeleteAwwww I'm smiling.
ReplyDeleteThis be good. Real good.
And I can't stop smiling. Thank you.
A joyous poem for blue fat girls on Fat Tuesday. All snowy, weightless and smelling of catnip. I don't need a picture. You just painted redemption. Well done, you!
ReplyDeletean apron full of catnip...girl, I could say so much about this write...but let's keep it simple. You rock, you so know it...and this piece reminds me why I do so love to visit! Hoping to be free to do much more of that soon!
ReplyDeleteShay.
ReplyDeleteThis is so good!
One of my favorite poems of yours...so much surprise and possibility. I thought of the two girls in A Slipping Down Life (if they would have found each other in this way, not just as friends).
Your voice is so clear here.
The traffic was rosary beads
ReplyDeletemoving up one by one, a honking, half-assed Rapture....I have been in that rapture...love this poem!
OMG ~ everything about this poem is wonderful!
ReplyDelete(I do mean it)
i read this when you posted it and re-reading it now came to the same conclusion ~ you're an alien with two brains and three hearts, all of which are in overdrive when you're writing poetry. you probably got exiled to Earth because you wrote so much better than everyone else on your home planet. they must hate Earthlings to inflict your brilliance on us...
ReplyDelete