Anne

My mother’s name was not hard to spell
His family always got it wrong
Every card, every label
40 years or until they died.

Christmastime and mother in the kitchen
Dirty dishes, brandy, cigars,
Laughter in the living room
Open-fly naps on the floor under the TV.

She made long lists each year.
Slanted, delicate letters
Their names and beside each
A gift.

by J.E. Beville

Vanilla Deaf

by J.E. Beville

We left it out to melt
But it disappeared
By smelling salts traveling
Out of porch slats to
Sidewalks
            The street is truly running
            Alongside
            Pedestrians, right? Um,
It’s questionable how blissful
Has to be coincidental trickery
How beautiful the patio
Just became
            When your song came on
            Dilation
Formula for fixing resolution or
To fix to obliterate
Don’t say,
            I didn’t see it coming
Lie
            I never thought…
            I don’t know how…

You got what you wanted
Weren’t so blind, so innocent,
Maybe naïve
Feel better now,

            They make women like this
Plenty, probably
In many places or under
Rocks
Just as soft and bitter
            Quirky, spry
            Fierce, timid, and nervous with
            A view of the brighter
If not more, many more after
Me, there will be loads
You say,
            True, it’s true
Then there’s a lasso
A phone bill, a promise,
A problem, thanks
Finger spell good-bye and
Good luck. Faster.
Then smell my hair
            It’s so circular
            And steep
Psst, I put it in the dresser
                        What?
Well, I couldn’t absorb it
                        Why not?
Because you’d like that
So would we all.
But while I hate quick
People, quick settlements
Still, if you touch me,
My teeth fall out.

Thick Accents

by J.E. Beville

These lines run off center
Changing the lion-hearted into
A satire called Metacomet's war
In which first was the winner
And the lasting legacy upside down.
Let us take it from there.
Schrodinger's cat is not even
Inside the box and black holes
Break the law of conservation
Birth days are death days,
Pain is love and joy is plastic
It's not from scratch, there
Is a kernel of thetic but
As a branch on a tree in
Carpa topanga where energy can
Never defeat our wildest ideas.
If we ever leave these climbs
All that honey to bees.

Touch with an Animal Side

by J.E. Beville

I dreamt all night long
That pus was weeping from
Both my nipples, razed peaks
Bubbling up with neutrophils.
Today cramps are trying to do
A week's work in one hour.
For one year give this
Abomination to the men.

Legacy

by J.E. Beville

 

I keep removing myself
For long and delicate adventure.

Now on the journey's third leg
Again brave and tall.

This, the great risk thrice, where
Fortune looks like fear.
If you look it in the eye,
Things you can't even dream.

I never dreamed
I'd find the answer to the oldest question.
You'd never guess I was looking,
You think only in cold cash.

In a way this was all you ever wanted
You push too hard and it happens exactly
An ugly wish for everything and nothing

The path to the path.

Small Wonders

A little more than 30 pounds
Gets you all this
Most of a decade
Days filled with joy and concern
House clown, house ray of sunlight
Fragile and stocky
Expensive but worth much more
A bargain I couldn’t pass up.
Still finding your hair
In my bras,
Sweaters, sweatshirts, rugs, slippers.
No matter what the steel
Trap of my mind finds,
The tricks it plays to make
Me cry in the middle of the night,
How many wishes it makes,
Or my skin and hands that
Still feel every inch,
How often we sit on the couch
Leaving a seat for you
I still know moment to moment
We were meant to be.