The city had such pretty clotheslines.
Women aired their intimate apparel
in the emery haze:
membranes of lingerie—
pearl, ruby, copper slips—
their somehow intestinal quivering in the wind.
And Freihofer’s spread the chaste, apron scent
of baking, a sensual net
over a few yards of North Troy.
The city had Niagara
Mohawk bearing down with power and light
and members of the Local
shifting on the line.
They worked on fabrics made from wood and acid,
synthetics that won’t vent.
They pieced the tropics into housecoats
when big prints were the rage.
Dacron gardens twisted on the line
over lots of Queen Anne’s lace.
Sackdresses dyed the sun
as sun passed through, making a brash stained glass
against the leading of the tenements,
the warehouse holding medical supplies.
I waited for my bus by that window of trusses
in Caucasian beige, trying to forget
the pathological inside.
I was thinking of being alive.
I was waiting to open
the amber envelopes of mail at home.
Just as food service workers, counter women,
maybe my Aunt Fran, waited to undo
their perms from the delicate insect meshes
required by The Board of Health.
Aunt Alice wasn’t on this route.
She made brushes and plastics at Tek Hughes—
milk crates of orange
industrial lace
the cartons could drip through.
Once we boarded, the girls from Behr-Manning
put their veins up
and sawed their nails to dust
on files from the plant.
All day, they made abrasives. Garnet paper.
Yes, and rags covered with crushed gems called
garnet cloth.
It was dusk—when aunts and mothers formed
their larval curls
and wrapped their heads in thick brown webs.
It was yesterday—twenty years after
my father’s death,
I found something he had kept.
A packet of lightning-
cut sanding discs, still sealed.
I guess he meant to open the finish,
strip the paint stalled on some grain
and groom the primal gold.
The discs are the rough size
of those cookies the franchises call Homestyle
and label Best Before.
The old cellophane was tough.
But I ripped until I touched
their harsh done crust.
1995, Sensual Math (W. W. Norton & Company)
Copyright ©:
Alice Fulton
A few random poems:
- Guinevere poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- For Aun by Lynne Scott
- Sound O’ Water by William Barnes
- At A Calvary Near The Ancre by Wilfred Owen
- Robert Burns: It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonie Face:
- A Wreath Of Immortelles poem – Ambrose Bierce poems | Poems and Poetry
- Dyer Died In Silence poem – Andrea “Vocab” Sanderson poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Promise of Sleep poem – Amy Levy poems | Poems and Poetry
- You Felons on Trial in Courts. by Walt Whitman
- Владимир Высоцкий – Холодно, метёт кругом
- Robert Burns: O May, Thy Morn:
- The Gardener LXXV: At Midnight by Rabindranath Tagore
- Николай Языков – Песнь баяна (Люблю смотреть на месяц ясной)
- The Pleasures Of Friendship by Stevie Smith
- Sonnet # 11 by Luis A. Estable
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Last night my soul cried O exalted sphere of Heaven by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- Laila and the Khalifa by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- Intrigued with Evening by Jelaluddin Rumi
- In the Waters of Purity by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- In the End by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- In The Arc Of Your Mallet by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- If A Tree Could Wander by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- I Swear by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- I See so Deeply Within Myself by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- I Have a Fire for You in my Mouth by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- I have fallen into unconsciousness by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- I have fallen into unconsciousness by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- I have been tricked by flying too close by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- I have been tricked by flying too close by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- I Have a Fire for You in my Mouth by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- I closed my eyes to creation by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- I closed my eyes to creation by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- I am a sculptor, a molder of form by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- I Am Part Of The Load by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- I Am Part Of The Load by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
