A Woman Always Wins

Six hundred ninety six
is really the sum of
Sappho, Plath and I.
Elizabeth: instead of
loving thee
count the ways
you come tonight.
Maya, watch us
Yin Yang the mirror
in half.

How would you
know which poet
I like?
Here is the winner:
read my pants
in Braille.

DQ 05/22/07

The Sun

The title and first line of this poem are borrowed from a poem by Charles Baudelaire.

The Sun

Along the old slums where
the ruined shutters hang
a grouper exits a window
swallows a whole yellowtail
swims towards the next building.

Below the kill, a garland of algae
hangs on a barnacled street sign,
a school of sardines gathers above
the walk-don’t walk pedestrian sign
at the corner of the four lane street.

The sun shines above the waters.
It feels like summer. Year round
the mermaids lay eggs while
archeologists mermen dive kitchen
drawers seeking small tridents.

We could never agree on much
you and I. Even when mother
was ill, we argued over her health.
You said it was car sickness
I said it was years of smoking.

The doctor said it was heat stroke
the politician said she was fine
the priest said it was incest
kept blabbering the rhetoric
of how long ago they climbed

the ark two by two, and fled higher.
Even while we watched the news
we could not agree on how to keep
the polar ice caps frozen.
Now it doesn’t matter.

Even the rainbow has fled.


DQ 5/6/7