I was looking for a certain book of poetry in my shelves and found my mom’s old autograph book from when she was in junior high, 1953-55. Here are some of the quite poetic inscriptions inside:

When you get married, don’t marry a fool. Marry a boy from Locust High School.

If I was a little pig playing in the yard and you were a little dog, would you bite me very hard?

I love you little. I love you big. I love you like a little pig.

When you get married and live on a hill, send me a piece of your wedding cake by a whippoorwill.

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The Position of the Stars

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.

Continue reading “The Position of the Stars”