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Showing posts from October, 2012

Disclaimer

The poet makes no warranty that he or she treats of any single, objective, accurate or essential truth about her or her own poem except in the poem itself. Additional or contradictory interpretations by others may be reasonably given equal or greater credence.

Heads or tails?

HEADS OR TAILS, RICHARD?
By FangO

and Alice's artist friend, Kurt, flipped
and worried a silver dollar the whole time
we ambled around Manhattan, bumblebeeing
into art galleries and revolutionary bookstores.
Coming out of one, Kurt chatted up
a Texan woman who was picking up her rejected
charcoal nudes. She was a flat-out nut,
I reckoned, though Kurt and Alice
enjoyed splashing in the flow of her quick
drawl of scandalous international narrative.
Had she been local, richer and only
slightly more balanced, Kurt could have
stacked another possible crash pad
on the three he has standing by. Spiv,
that's a Scrabble word I love. One who
lives by his or her wits. One day, Kurt,
your figures will be billboard sized.
They may as well be, but will you be
heads up or tails up by then?



***
This in response to poetic asides prompt "answer poem."

From the ice

(untitled)

She's been thinking about
things that don't need thinking

This gives her the sensation
that the rink sinks inches

at a time whenever she launches
a leap--a wince pinches her skates.

For the klutz who learned triple
Lutz, a great deflation--smack--

cold reminder of the bindings
in her locker. Her back iced,

she bounces up, thrusts her body,
her choice, noise of crowd sigh,

disappointment at the points lost.
To be or not to be nigh eighteen,

a mother or a medalist--shake
the thought, chase momentum

ignore the devil.


***
This in response to Robert Brewer's weekly prompt at poetic asides, with the direction to start a poem with a line drawn from his notebook.

I am submitting from the road, in New York, where we went skating in Long Island with our cousins, one of whom is a competitive ice skater. Being at the rink, and having watched her videos, and some performances of other local champs, put me in the setting of this po-narrative. Something about the concentration…

In Our Books Interviews Daniel Ari

Image
I really feel good about this interview at In Our Books Here are some reasons why:

I'm proud of the poem "this glamorous profession" that won the contest there and garnered the interview.
I'm pleased with what I wrote for the interview.
I think Ina Roy and Andrea Heiberg have a really beautiful blog going. I love the look and feel of it, and I really enjoy their posts.
I'm tickled at the strange conflux of influences that led me to discover a poem that I very much like—it's a found poem, born out of the writings of Patrick Sokas.
I won 50 kroner for my poem!
Signed,
Your Humble Host,
Linky McLinkerson


Here's the poem:


 “this glamorous profession”
after Patrick Sokas, M.D.

Bill took an interest in my suit.
“Where did you get it?”
I looked at my feet and mumbled.
“I have one just like it.”
I glared. “This was my only suit, a mail-order suit.”
“You probably saw a picture on a model.”
“It looked good, though it was probably pinned up in back.”
“You said, ‘I want th…