Tuesday, January 6, 2009

November (d, e)

November (e, untitled)

Sweating and shivering and glancing overhead
they bent in the field,
Elmers, Ezekials and Judiths.

The precious wheat
hard hands cut and bound
& hurried to shelter.

Threatened by ambiguous winds -
helped by a friendly moon -
they worked till moonset.
Half the night.

They ate their porridge
gratefully
when sleet beat
against November walls.

On this strangely balmy November night,
a full moon with a jet stream across it.
I have no idea where
the food I ate tonight was grown.

Elmer's bones lie crumbling.
Less than 1% of what he knew has reached me -
less than that is even usable.

Same again: like my body,
all I know will become mulch.

Hey, what will stand here
400 years from now - a Chinese Mosque?
I know someone said that.

But I forget who.

- - Deanna Hopper



November (d, untitled)

When the moon is
splendidly lopsided

limping along, glorious &
misshapen

I think, "like my life," though
25% of my DNA
is the same as a banana's
and it is way, way time

to be past this
particular baloney

or maybe time to
just get drunk and stay drunk

wouldja pass me that beer please

When the moon is full
I am astounded
my bra's too tight
we're so perfect together

I can barely breathe

- - Deanna Hopper

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