Maureen tied summer to her wrist with a shoelace--
now the sun rises and sets in her sleeves.
Maureen left home at age 8, became a nun, quit, joined the army.
Now she wears her hair loose, 
knows the algebra of your every word before you sigh it.

Maureen talks to the Holsteins in the pasture,
contemplates the squares of the fields as seen from the air in planes
taken from high school geometry and woodworking class. 
"This was all a salt water sea," she tells the cows with a wide gesture,
sun spilling across the sloping green with the arc of her arms.

Maureen likes her milk frothy, her paintings surreal.
She likes you when you tell her she's a habitable planet in a colorform sky.
"We are rapidly approaching a tipping point," she opines dramatically
as you roll her over, then she rolls you, you haystack fool,
stood up on a stick with a silly grin because summer, because crows, 

because Maureen.

for Wordy Thursday at Toads. I have used vintage jellies' word list for reasons explained in the comments there. Just as a nod to the original intent of Sherry's prompt, there is a Grover Lewis reference hidden away here. 2 points for finding it.

Back in the 80's I had about a dozen buttons pinned to my jean jacket. One of them was Nena, who I thought was just the coolest ever. I also had Chrissie Hynde. I still have the jacket, and it still has a couple of buttons but not those. The one everybody likes is a crayon face with a big smile that says CHEER THE FUCK UP. 



You just kicked the shiz out of this prompt's azz. I am going nutso over how flipping good this is!
Fireblossom said…
^^^ And you hay-elped! Thanks bunches, girl.
Sherry Blue Sky said…
Oh, WOW! I love too many things about this poem to quote, but especially the "habitable planet in a colorform sky" and "because summer, because crows, because Maureen." I am stoked you wrote something for wordy thursday, and love that you found inspiration in vintage jellies' word list. Very very cool. This poem reads the way a tall glass of lemonade over ice goes down, on a hot afternoon. Just wonderful!
I used to have a jean jacket covered in buttons too. :)
tonispencer said…
My favorite button on my jacket said Queen of Fucking Everything. I still have it. I like this poem muchly, that Maureen talks to the cows. That she tells them about ths area used to be covered in sea. The Colororm sky sends shivers down my spine. I always wanted a set but we couldn't afford them. I am too new to Grover Lewis to pick out the hidden line. All I have in my head now is the poem in which the woman guides his dick to her mouth. I know I am weird. I just love the cows though. Cows are wonderful.
Anmol (HA) said…
Oh, wow. This is so well done - the dramatics and those character traits make it so quirky and fun. I'd love to read more about and of Maureen.
Margaret said…
For me it was the opening two lines - it doesn't get more gorgeous than that IMO. I love the crow reference.. I can't WAIT to get Toril's huge painted crow but have asked her to hold off mailing it until Christmas as it is John's Christmas present to me. (I have yet to tell him thought :)
Old Egg said…
Strangely I loved this even though my wifes name was Maureen. However I could imagine her as a teenager with her mates skipping school and going to the lake where they'd found a deserted swimming place all of their own dreaming together of what they they would do in life. I loved it because it was so real!
Kerry O'Connor said…
You first line is authentically your own.. with loads of impact. And I enjoyed the way you used words from the poem in a totally different way. Your character is so believable, that is why your poetry ticks so many boxes for me.
Anonymous said…
a runaway rainbow of a poem -

from opening to closing, each line, phrase crafted and startling for its uniqueness yet not far out beyond the pale reach of an understanding that leaves one sitting puzzled .... which makes "Maureen" unbelievable fascinating and intriguing ... the kind of girl most thought a little "too out there" but secretly were dying to befriend ...

I really like this for its richness in colours, on the tongue ... a runaway rainbow.

Well, how do you do, Maureen? Loved this poem....talking to the cows, once a nun then army, then crowing summer. I remember Colorforms.....sometimes the world is pieced together like mismatched colorforms, not paying attention to te color wheel or the way things are "supposed to be." Maureen seems like that :)