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from the almanac

DopeBeastieDopeBeastie Posts: 2,513
edited August 2004 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Poem: "Afraid So" by Jeanne Marie Beaumont from Curious Conduct © BOA Editions, Ltd., 2004. Reprinted with permission.

Afraid So

Is it starting to rain?
Did the check bounce?
Are we out of coffee?
Is this going to hurt?
Could you lose your job?
Did the glass break?
Was the baggage misrouted?
Will this go on my record?
Are you missing much money?
Was anyone injured?
Is the traffic heavy?
Do I have to remove my clothes?
Will it leave a scar?
Must you go?
Will this be in the papers?
Is my time up already?
Are we seeing the understudy?
Will it affect my eyesight?
Did all the books burn?
Are you still smoking?
Is the bone broken?
Will I have to put him to sleep?
Was the car totaled?
Am I responsible for these charges?
Are you contagious?
Will we have to wait long?
Is the runway icy?
Was the gun loaded?
Could this cause side effects?
Do you know who betrayed you?
Is the wound infected?
Are we lost?
Can it get any worse?
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • FinsburyParkCarrotsFinsburyParkCarrots Posts: 12,223
    I like this. It made me Google for more. :) Is that almanac series from the radio station you mentioned? If so, I'll check it out. :)
  • DopeBeastieDopeBeastie Posts: 2,513
    it's my homepage


    http://www.writersalmanac.publicradio.org I think???


    and on that radio station we listened to a couple of times with Dyao :)


    ksut.org


    freeking garrison keillor.... love him, love him, love him :)


    you should check it out everyday, it's way better than horrorscopes
  • FinsburyParkCarrotsFinsburyParkCarrots Posts: 12,223
    Yes, I knew the name of that second one. Was just being the spamparanoiac..spamparanoiacal adscratchfaceaphobical me. :)
  • DopeBeastieDopeBeastie Posts: 2,513
    and another...


    Suck It Up

    Two pugs on the undercard step through
    The ropes in satin robes,
    Pink Adidas with tassels,
    Winking at the women in the crowd.
    At instructions they stare down hard
    And refuse to touch their gloves,
    Trying to make everyone believe
    That this will be a serious dust-up.

    But when the bell rings they start
    Slapping like a couple of Barbie Dolls.
    One throws a half-hearted hook,
    The other flicks out his jab,
    They bounce around for a while
    Then grab each other for a tango.
    The crowd gets tired of booing
    and half of them go out for a beer,
    But I've got no place to hide.

    A week after a cancer scare,
    A year from a detached retina,
    Asthmatic, overweight, trickling,
    Drooling, bent like a blighted elm
    In my pajamas and slippers,
    I have tuned up my hearing aids to site in
    Numbness without expectation before
    These televised Tuesday Night Fights.

    With a minute left in the fourth,
    Scuffling, they butt their heads
    By accident. In midst of all the catcalls
    And hubbub suddenly they realize
    How much they hate each other.

    They start hammering and growling,
    Really dealing, whistling combinations,
    Hitting on the breaks and thumbing.
    At least one guy crosses a stiff jab
    With a roundhouse right and the other
    Loses his starch. The guy wades into
    The wounded one, pounding him
    Back and forth until he goes down,
    Bouncing his head hard on the canvas.

    The count begins but he is saved
    By the bell and his trainers haul
    Him to his stool as the lens zooms in.

    I come to the edge of my La-Z-Boy,
    Blinking and groaning from my incision,
    Eager for wise, insightful instruction.

    He gets a bucket of water in his face,
    A sniff on the salts while the cutman
    Tries to close his wounds with glue.
    His nose is broken, eyes are crossed,
    His lips bleed like two rare steaks.
    His cornermen take turns slapping his cheeks.
    "Suck it up!" they shout.
    "Suck it up!"




    love this.... seems to fit

    kablammm
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