6.24.2007

Les Affaires Comme d'Habitude

Le péché est client
de mon mari
nous avons vu
à une soirée cocktail et avons
fait semblant
que nous n'avions jamais rencontré
il m'a demandé des
questions banales
et j'ai feint l'irritation
Il a appelé mon mari
un homme heureux
je suis senti m'ai gêné
parce que
je suis si familier avec le péche
c'était difficile
pour moi le traiter
comme un étranger
c'était plus dur calme
pour reconnaître que
je préfère sa compagnie

Translation:
Business As Usual

sin is a client
of my husbands
we saw each other
at a cocktail party
and pretended
that we had never met
he asked me
banal questions
and I feigned irritation
he told my husband
that he was
a lucky man
I felt embarrassed
because
I am so familiar with sin
It was difficult
for me to treat him
like a stranger
It was harder still
to admit
that I prefer
his company

6.21.2007

Concubine

a fickle bitch
his mistress is
alluring and maddening

she summons him
during fair weather
weekends
promising good times
enviable scores

he invests in titanium
for her
new technology
and endless instruction

he comes home
smelling like her
with grass stains
on the cuffs of his trousers

he dreams of her
while I lay beside him
in my new nightgown

when he wakes
he tells me of
a missed putt
for birdie
and I hear the
desire
in his voice

I know that he wants her
instead of me
even now as I
show him my
exquisite new nightgown
my flesh can not
compete

6.17.2007

Compulsion

At 3:26 in the morning, I woke up thinking about the word 'fracas.' I could see the word behind my eyes, like it was written on a dry erase board with a bright blue marker. A tangible hyperlink. I wondered how it was spelled, with a 'ck' or just a 'c.' I sat up in bed and knocked my glasses off the nightstand. My husband moved and mumbled as I rolled out of bed looking for my dictionary. Fracas, I whispered, what a strange word. My husband sighed loudly and put a pillow over his head. I speculated on words that might rhyme with fracas: Bacchus or Caracas were two that I thought of. I hurried down soft steps with hard, heavy feet. I tripped over a toy truck and a framed photograph threatened to fall off the wall. I steadied it, bumping my head in the process. Mom, my oldest boy called, what happened? I went to his room to tousle his hair and straighten his covers. I asked him if he had seen my dictionary. Look it up online, he said grumpily, sounding like an old man. I made my way to the PC, trying not to turn on too many lights. I sat down on my creaky office chair and found the word fracas on yourdictionary.com. I learned that fracas is a noun. A fracas is a noisy, disorderly fight, quarrel or brawl. I supposed it might also mean an undue disturbance, perhaps in the middle of the night. I sat back, satisfied, thinking about commotions and compulsions and cerebral convulsions. I yawned and stretched, accidentally pushing an unstable book off the shelf. What a fracas, I said, softly--to myself. My baby started to cry.

I consider this post to be an example of a prose poem, which is basically a prose work that has poetic characteristics such as vivid imagery and concentrated expression. Prose poetry often uses no line breaks and/or stanzaic rules. Some people may not consider this to be a good example of a prose poem, however. There will be readers who see the above post as inane rambling or a stream of consciousness type piece. This would not be incorrect, though I still feel that 'Compulsion' is best described as a prose poem.

6.13.2007

Secret Garden

The promise of me
has so much power
A magic key
at this dark hour
Self-deprecating
I dismiss
Calculating
he insists
I can own him, I think
with a suggested fantasy
A long lashed wink
well cultivated beauty
Unlocking the solid gate
to my secret garden
Unsettled, he can not wait
let me in, he pleads, again
again

6.09.2007

Reddition (Il est s'insistant!)

J'ai visité le péché
chez lui
hier
c'était luxuriant
et plein de
trésors
que les murs ont été peints
le violetet
il y avait
la moquette sur
le péché de plafond est si original, j'ai pensé,
regardant autour
du péché marché vers moi
souriant
tout ceci pourrait être le vôtre
il a chuchoté
si vous juste vous rendriez
il a appuyé une clef de maison
dans ma main
il a brûlé ma paume


Translation:

Surrender (He's So Insistent!)

I visited sin
at his house
yesterday
it was opulent
and full of
treasures
the walls were painted
purple
and there was carpet
on the ceiling
sin is so original, I thought,
looking around
sin walked towards me
smiling
all this could be yours
he whispered
if you would just surrender
he pressed a house key
into my hand
it burned my palm