Monthly Archives: November 2014

The Full Set

I can still hear french-tipped fingernails
clickety-click clicking on the piano keys,
playing the low notes of “Heart and Soul”
while I tentatively played the melody.

I remember watching the rounded ends
dutifully separating the completed check
from the rest of the book,
how long her hand looked
as she held it out to me.

I still laugh when I tell the story
of when one acrylic fell off
in the grape leaves,
but she ended up
picking the offending roll-up
from the platter anyway.

I can hear the shout
“Tell ’em what you want!”
from the kitchen, her bright red nails
cupped around her mouth
to amplify her voice.

I remember their hands so vividly —
their manicures and full sets
adding a feminine curve
to their rougher edges.

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He’ll Be

The rainstorm in the desert.
The moonlight in the dark.
The heat when it gets freezing.
The final, startling spark.

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Splinched

Two pages of the story
stuck together
so that even and odd,
inside left and inside right,
hold on like magnets.
Pulling them apart
will rip the words right out,
change the story.
Keeping them together
creates a void,
a lack heavier than pages.

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Semantic Satiation

My lack of patience
makes me repeat the word
to myself, within myself,
over and over and over,
as though repeating it
will summon it,
will burst it forth
in a flash flood
to surround me,
to fill the void,
to make me really feel it.

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Vibration

There are certain chords
that I feel in my whole body.
Of course I don’t remember it,
but deep down in the fibers of my being,
I know it’s because Dad used to put headphones
on Mom’s stomach and play his favorite records for us.
Even now, hearing the chords
gives me that shiver that isn’t really a shiver —
the goosebumps rise, my heart rate falls,
and I feel surrounded by that peaceful melody.

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