Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Gene McCormick- Three Poems & Art

Career Move

She wins the secretarial job,
the successful applicant
at 50 wpm, no dictation, but
catches the eye of the employer.
They celebrate with martinis
over lunch, a hotel key, and a
synchronization of
social calendars to avoid
spousal encroachment.
That was the ‘60’s.
And ‘70’s.
‘80’s, too.

 Girl Watcher

Sitting at a table to the rear of the restaurant,
a dessert plate of baked walnuts before him
--a treat laced with ginger, sugar, cinnamon—
wondering why, he being so much older,
why do young, unformed girls
too young to grasp consequences
look at him with side glances as they pass?
What is their point?
Why do they taunt?
What the hell are they trying to do?

Red Square

For no reason, none,
a twelve inch by ten inch remnant
of vermillion red silk lays
across an ironing board,
across a scorch-proof metallic cover.
Flat, not a wrinkle,
cool and smooth and
red, red, red silk, silky red
abandoned while the telephone
is answered, a robot calling.
The dimensions are not exactly
12”x10”, but nearly so
and the silk moves not an iota
during the interruption
though a spring wind wafts
through the window screen,
slides over the vermillion and
bumps against the far wall,
its grey flat latex paint
smooth as red silk,
as cool as patina
on a vintage brass doorknob
feels to the touch of
a lady’s fingertips.

1 comment:

  1. Once again, Mr. McCormick permits us a peek into everyday dramas, peeling back the facade to reveal buried back stories that resonate.