Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry
Poetry of the People
So once upon a time
When we bricked rectangles of hay
into our houses, we suffered acne
and the dream of escape,
A stepfather who smothered your smile,
The deadness of hours never ours.
Open your heart.
Open your heart. Continue reading “The Adult’s Song”
My grandmother (Gangy) kept a diary most years on a drugstore calendar. In the date blocks she wrote the high and low temperatures. On the back of each page, she wrote a brief entry for the highlight of most days. Most of the comments are about people who came to see her and how long they stayed, food she canned, weather observations.
This is where poetry lives: Continue reading “Gangy’s Drugstore Calendar”
Miniskirt held down with laughter,
My arms full of the blue quilt
And package of cherry licorice,
You had the 6-pack of a beer
Only teenagers and drunks would buy.
We ran through the dark cow pasture
To the very center
Or what we thought might be
And still laughing, we stumbled down
Over the remains of alfalfa stalks,
The blanket and licorice beneath us
And the dark expanse of Oklahoma sky above us.
Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry 