Tomcats mistake her for the moon,
and set up a terrific yowling in her wake.
If a little black dress went to a dance,
and fell in love with the darkest summer midnight in the whole place,
they would have a baby on the downbeat
and that baby would be
Lexa the Local Goddess's hair.
Look, I know that you're in love with her.
I'm in love with her.
Everyone is.
Halfbacks and housewives, cops and cool girls,
she is catnip to them all.
Spacemen and coma chicks want to come home
just to get her to give up a kiss.
Lexa the Local Goddess has the world on a string,
and a complete collection of
Cindi the bank teller's
sighs when she sleeps.
What more could she want except
everything else--
all the things she's seen in magazines and on movie screens,
all the flickery silver shooting stars
that fall adoringly at her feet.
________
image posted by Ingeborg Rodven at Weheartit.
I find beauty at that level pretty scary myself--as much of a mask as ugly, when you get down to it--no one ever knows who you really are, or cares, except perhaps that rare One we all look for. Still, the dazzling string of superlatives evokes an ideal, and where would love be without the Ideal? My favorite stanza here is the second--such a visual there of something mystical, beyond humanly desirable...the ending brings the goddess down to the mortal level, and as such balances the whole softly moving poem with its understanding.
ReplyDeleteOh, and loving the tags. They give a nice glint of irony to the speaker.
ReplyDeleteThat second stanza will have me pulling MY hair out for the rest of the day!
ReplyDeleteThe phrases "on the downbeat" and "flickery silver shooting stars" are jewels.
ReplyDeleteYou've had your share of Bolthouse Farms this morning, I imagine. ;)
some people are just too damn good looking for the world. :)
ReplyDeleteTomcats mistake her for the moon...
ReplyDeleteNo one can create the perfect femme fatale like you, Shay, nor write with such passion about all that is part of the feminine mystique. I always feel proud to be a woman after reading your work.
I love what Kerry said - you do make us feel glad to be women, kiddo! Your two closing lines are so completely satisfying.
ReplyDelete"Tomcats mistake her for the moon." How do you manage to always come up with the PERFECT line time after time?!!
ReplyDeleteha...what a character your created in her...love that the cats howl as she walks by....and the collection of sighs of the bank teller as well...ha...she's got the world on her string...
ReplyDeleteand i agree, particularly on the pig...ugh....yep...mute.....
Stick this poem in that sidebar list immediately. It's one of your best. I'm going to try to list all my favorite lines, but I'm pretty sure I don't have any non-favorite lines to omit.
ReplyDeleteher "name" (you have such a gift for naming your characters)
Line 3 of Stanza 1
all of Stanza 2
all of Stanza 3, especially the last couple of lines
your framing, opening and closing with the notions and motions of stars
I also love all the rest of the poem, only slightly less than the above mentioned sections.
Like I said, sidebar this with the best of the best.
"What more could she want except
ReplyDeleteeverything else--"
Oops! How could I leave out this?!
Ah what a gorgeous being she would be...I 'd love to meet her...
ReplyDeletea temptress who holds the world in her thrall
ReplyDeleteis there a pageant Lexa can enter to become County Goddess? then State Goddess, then Ms USA Goddess, then Ms Universe Goddess? how many local goddesses are there? i mean, how many local places are there and does each one have its own goddess? inquiring minds want to know!
ReplyDelete♥