Two Poems
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by Shirley Obitz "N" for November Backstage Very pink Pink lights Like a flamingo A poet lounges on a couch reading aloud The static of the fluorescents buzz A stripper with Legs like a chain link fence Long eyelashes flashing Peers over his shoulder A True Black Comedy Read something that’s not about a sad cold November, She says The soul is A Sad Cold November I’m parked out back in section “N” The attendant said, “Go down to “N”—like November.” I think that is weird. And all day after that, I can’t stop thinking of alternative words for November. “N” for neon “N” for nothing “N” for nipples “N” for needles “N” for Neruda, Niagara, Nirvana, Have you Ever been Walking Alone in Berlin? She says to the poet If you saw me, would you come after me? You’re like wallpaper made of clocks Your stuck on moments in time She hears her cue Oh, that’s me! I Want Out It is the way I am and the way I was And there we were taking in our loud silence in our car with the leaves of Rolling Stone on the floor mat reading about the life of a contemporary voice I am found sitting up by the stage You were hoping for an encore That I might push you out there and introduce you But all I could think was what a prison I am in with you The next morning when the sunlight closed Behind the arboretum of trees I couldn’t even breathe I’m disappointed That you can live With the darkness beside the freeway “Extinguished you mean?” In every direction! You laugh on asphalt I would gladly go blind if I could not see you Over the hot dessert Upon something tiny and insignificant When I forgot my name I knew who I was The LA sky forbidding change Finally, and completely Comprehended the end Which fell on its knees From nowhere in delightful joyous hope Shirley Obitz is a writer currently living in New Mexico. |