National Poetry Month April 30, 2020 Karen George Frida Kahlo, Henry Ford Hospital (The Flying Bed), 1932 Frida, not everyone wants to see you unclothed on a hospital bed in the open air, industrial Detroit on the horizon, blood puddling beneath you. Clutched in your hand, long umbilical cords attached to floating objects: model of the female reproductive system, a snail, an orchid, your pelvis fractured in a bus accident when you were…
National Poetry Month April 29, 2020. Claire Rubin Wise Penelope Twenty years without hearth sitting, shawl weaving, sock sewing, without supervising servants so the roast pig is pleasing to the hoards of lascivious men swigging wine, pinching servants and waving cardboard swords Twenty years of adventures, the captain of her ship never falling for lotus flowers or the seductive voices of sirens no need for wax plugs in her ears but Poseidon saw…
National Poetry Month April 28, 2020 Susan Wismer The Babysitter I wanted to touch Mrs Quinn’s neck my hand, stubby, unsure, poised four years old I wanted to trace the round line of her collar the base of her throat rest, just for a moment my pointer finger on the cup of her bone, in the notch a slight flutter, wrinkled soft hollow on her rice papered skin a sketch of wrinkles,…
National Poetry Month April 27, 2020 Dotty LeMieux On the Day Cokie Roberts Died I had to remember she wasn’t Nina Totenberg And that Dan Rather wasn’t dead, only banished But Tucker Carlson was still alive and well Alive anyway if not well informed I had to remember the news isn’t just something you read off a teleprompter Sometimes it happens to you while you’re sitting in your chair smiling…
