Hot flash morning
snowy cold milk kisses my neck
Prepping for the road
Thinking of a pill bug ball up
cozy on the couch
Hookie from the test
black shapes appear to disappear
in thick white air
Swallow
Ready for the ride
Home now
I lay watching
a cloudless blue afternoon
from the birdless window
High above me
luminescent tree leaf star shine
caught fallen from fog
Look what we can do!
Don’t you worry one bit.
bad tan lines that don’t look quite right
a laugh sounding from a bird outside
picturesque drive capturing sunlight
plane windows visible in smiling eyes
big screens fading away with title lines
salad bowls being scrubbed from the inside
cursing the skyline in hazy midnights
thinking about your body doesn’t feel right
lying in dear friend’s passenger sides
june daydreaming simply floating by
Cigarettes and roller skates
three inch heels and layered hairdos
polished nails, banana splits
bikinis, martinis, permanent waves
knitting slippers, painting walls
bowls of goldfish, contact lenses
baking biscuits, adopting cats
platform shoes and baby sitting
clip on earrings, disco dancing
foundation makeup, miniature golf
red meat, fried fish, lottery tickets
selling anything, sun bathing
tent camping, working,
sports events of any sort
turkey roasting, chocolate malts
ladder climbing, jogging
given up for good!
-Sue Neufarth Howard
Studying an old photo
now wrinkled & worn
dog-eared and creased.
I’m dawning a diaper & tee
holding onto an old dog’s ear.
I laugh as I look. Nearly
sixty-seven years old,
though showing its age
not yet faded away.
30 days of Heyoka
Give my uterus to the state,
And sail to open waters
Hoping to be born again
Somewhere where I
Can live in my body
Without asking to
And not fear its power,
Wondering when my own
Anatomy will be weaponized
Against me; the trigger pulled
By a man in a robe pretending
To be a god. When can I
Be my own damn god?
Melon, clay, bronze,
ginger, apricot,
pumpkin, goldenrod,
rust, tiger, fire,
salamander,
spice, carrot, ochre,
sandstone,
and willpower orange–
all names for different shades
of orange from a hardware store’s
paint department–orange isn’t really mentioned.
I never understood
the orange palette
until I went to Vieques,
surrounded by the bright
blue and turquoise Caribbean Sea,
where the color orange bounces
like a beach ball across the island–
orange is a mango, a voluptuous flower,
the swirl on a mural, the color of an
entire building, the steps leading up.
Orange is a party, orange is delicious,
Orange is a life well-lived, a surprise–
a color we cannot live without.
My eyes sharply tuned to sounds,
ears focused on snippets of images,
excavating poetry
masquerading as the mundane.
Images, concepts, stories,
tossed in a basket
to be unfurled
into ribbons
of words
streaming
down
my
page.
Late each night I wait to see
what calls out,
or settles in my mind,
to be given voice.
So thankful June
only has 30 days.
I need sleep.
I just called to say I Love You
I just called to say how much I care
I called and left a message
For a fellow friend of the environment
Just to let him know I care
The Supreme Court
That group that makes decisions
Sets precedence for all of us
They passed a ruling today 6-3
We can no longer regulate
The carbon output of pollution emitting companies
In the throes of massive worldwide climate change
After a boyhood in nature
It’s time to take a stand for the land
For each other, our children
I mean it
From the bottom of my heart
