Wednesday, June 27, 2012

New Poem Day # 12...

Homecoming

When I came home
from school and noticed
that my dog Murphy
was missing, I asked
my mom where he was.
She told me they’d taken
him to live on a
farm where he would
have more room to run.
When I pointed out
that we already live
on a farm, Mom quickly
changed the subject to golf.
Which was odd, because
neither of us play golf.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

New Poem Day # 11...


Today's poem comes from my time living in the Midwood neighborhood of Brooklyn several years ago:


The Vine

I have a vine growing
through my window.
When I debate cutting
it down, I can’t help but
think that it allows me
to grow, so why shouldn’t
I do the same for it?
But then I remember that
it hasn’t chipped in for
the rent or for the air
conditioner that gives it
water. So then I think
I really just want to
hack the free-loading
son of a bitch to bits.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

New Poem Day # 10...


My family and I took a trip to Ohio and Michigan recently, so I missed a few New Poem Days. Here are three of my favorites to make up for it:


Driving Home in Ohio

She looked over from
the passenger seat and said,
“When I was little,
and I came home from
my first day of school,
I asked my uncle why
I was the only brown girl
in class. He sat me down
on his lap and told me
that when God made people,
he baked them like cookies.
He didn’t cook the
first batch long enough,
and those were the white people.
He cooked the second batch
too long, and those
were the black people.
But the third batch was cooked
just right, and that was
us, the Mexicans. It
made me feel much
better at the time.”
I turned my head
from the dark road to
look at her and said,
“That’s the cutest racist
story I’ve ever heard.”


The Dentist on Lexington Ave.

Going to meet her
to tell her how
I felt was like
going to the dentist.
I wasn’t sure if
I was going to be
rewarded for my interest,
or if I was just
going to be drilled.
Either way, I wished
I had some out of date
magazines around to
not pay attention to.


A Girl and her Boots

I dated this girl once
who always talked about boots.
She’d somehow manage
to turn every conversation
into a complicated discussion
about the latest in boot wear.
There was this one pair of boots
that she had her eye on in particular.
Even though we’d only been dating a few weeks,
and the boots cost over two hundred dollars,
I took her constant boot discourse as a hint.
So I went out and bought her the boots.
She broke up with me the next day.
She even sent me a check for the boots.
I guess the boots scared her.
Which was odd for a person
who liked boots so much.