Wanda Morrow Clevenger- Two Poems

the eunuchs

 

I don’t lose sleep anymore

at how

minding manners doesn’t

necessarily sanction

parity

 

at the cyber circus

freaks––their phony finger

poised to vanquish

ruck;

at how heads roll

off puberty’s pathological

kleft jaw

 

or at how cleanly

she photoshopped rancor

plagiarized

in Mae West

pseudo babble

kissed on the gaped

maw

her stymied eunuchs

 

 

Gascozark Hills Resort

 

There is a clarity in the black and white

postcard from Gascozark Hills Resort

on Highway 66

 

week guests in cotton dresses and

white shirts served family style

Great Aunt Anna and Mom in waitress

uniform, hand clawing glassware,

Mom’s sweeping waved hair

Anna's young face I never saw in

real time; Uncle Ronnie still a boy

standing in back

 

those uniforms were awful hot

Mom wrote on the postcard back

to her boyfriend

 

I had to guess at color: spring sky

blue set off by starched white collars

sleeve cuffs

aprons

overlarge buttons

 

the postcard was mailed to my father

long spring skies before me;

the uniforms are long gone now

Anna, Ronnie, my dad

the week guests mostly gone too.

 

 

 

Wanda Morrow Clevenger, author of This Same Small Town in Each of Us

Paypal link: http://edgarallanpoet.com/This_Same_Small_Town.html