Poem of the Week

JOSEPHINE

At Christmas Dinner in New Jersey,

Nanny concentrates on her plate of square lasagna.

Sam, her husband, grasps her wrinkled hand,

Helps lift the food to her mouth.

On occasion, she stares past me,

Eyes vacant of all recognition.

Later in the living-room,

A mapless treasure hunt progresses

Through drawers, in closets, under pillows.

Nanny suspiciously eyes her son, his wife.

Her pocketbook has gone missing.

We would soon look for her

And not find her again.

Twisting his arm around hers,

Her son guides Nanny to the car.

She jerks away.

“Who are you?”

Terror edges her voice.

We reassure her.

Beside her in the back seat,

I lean toward her,

Embrace her hands,

And gaze into her empty eyes.

“Jo,” I murmur, “tell me about your paintings.”

Her eyes twinkle and awareness sparks.

It is not the first time oil lights up the world.

THE WOODEN AFFAIR

Seductively, you leaned toward me.

In rigidity, you invited me to dance.

In mere split seconds I regarded it,

Considered what you said,

Held it at length.

Then, in the passionate desire of forgotten consequences,

My sliding frame meshed to yours

In a vehicular pole dance,

Metal roaring, twisting and turning,

Enshrouding and enveloping your beauty.

The embraced taboo caught in the moment of ecstasy,

Evidenced in the tell-tale sign

Of flowing blood,

Salty sweat,

And tears.