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Poem for Marisa

July 13, 2012

[at a poetry reading in an art gallery sometime ago a mother & daughter read together, both dark-haired/dark-eyed beauties.  The daughter was maybe 20, 22, & I fell into fantasies watching her read.  The mother’s poems were about Nature, writing in a cafe, gentle, discursive lady poems.  The daughter’s poems were full of notebook angst & profanity, tales of longing, lost love, being aroused while getting a tattoo, buying underwear, all in graphic, personal language.  When I got home I succumbed & wrote this poem.]

your eyes dark
as our pasts, as
your own future
the distances
less than tissue
memory dilating
conceptions
that mothers
repeat in
trilogies, the
familiar touches
you do enjoy
like the stems
of grey hats
you steal at night
my blue jean
turquoise thong
flashing child
my secret end
my friendship
dripping now
from tiny openings
like memory

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From → Poems, Poets, Ponderings

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