AR – 1ip 5ervice

AR – 1ip 5ervice

my father called his wallet a billfold

simply put a portable engagement

for goods and services

our n.r.a. has a billfold too

simply put a stable lobby

for goods and services

guised as rights (by god no less)

you are folded under leather

with no haggling in the street

with no argument for debate

           you are wrong

           they are right

          — i never feared the paper tiger

                                           — until now

 

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Autumn Valentine

I just received my 1936 copy of Dorothy Parker‘s “The Collected Poetry Of Dorothy Parker”.  Here I share the final poem in the book, a wry and timely piece, shining a succinct light on the ever changing attitudes of love and infatuation.  That gal cracks me up.  ~TH~

dp_poetry

AUTUMN VALENTINE

In May my heart was breaking-

Oh wide the wound, and deep!

And bitter it beat at waking,

And sore it split in sleep.

And when it came November,

I sought my heart, and sighed,

“Poor thing, do you remember?”

“What heart was that?” it cried.

Improvised Reeds

Improvised Reeds

It was my mother who taught me to cradle a

Blade of grass between my thumbs

Cuticles aligned and haunches pressed together

Creating the reed chamber

 

The first time she fashioned this magic

We sat by our hickory tree

The rock-hard nuts would sound off on any car

Parked too close to the cinderblock wall

 

My mother and I shared a penchant for silence

When we were among the fall leaves and branches

She plucked a broad grass from between us, blowing

Setting it loudly aquiver, shrill as a clarinet

 

Startling miraculous sound!

Please, yes! Show me how it’s done

It was then my mother taught me

The pleasant nature of patient curiosity.