she’s an american poet!

She’s an earthquake,
she is darkness,
she is home
and church and starlit fields.
She’s a hand-dyed
butternut princess.
She’s an American Poet!

She’s a Tuckahoe,
she’s a mudsill.
She’s a ’69 Dodge Dart.
She is him on fire,
between her hips
she is her babies, and they her blood.

She is the coal mine,
she is the smelter
She is the levee’s moan
and the blues down in her delta
She ain’t no Copperhead
– she voted for Eisenhower,
She’s an American Poet!

She is hips and tits and winks and smiles
She’s some boy’s prom night dream come true
She reads to her kids, or she sits at night fretting over their fevers
She fixes his dinner and listens to him gripe
about that big sale he just could not close…

but she is a Boston Mountains songbird,
she is the muse for the boys in the band.
She is vengeance, privilege
hard cider and molasses,
twirling down the Shenandoah
with the hot iron in her hand.

She is the fading summer’s afternoon
the twilight’s last gleaming,
she was born in the 17th Century
and since reborn 11 times.
She sings of apple juice, of beer
corn dodger, johnnycake….
She’s an American poet!

She is the loneliness
at 2 a.m. and the first
gold shafts in a purple sky
The sound of nightbirds and dewfall
and a rest of the world that
didn’t chose to be lonely.

And she’s late for work and it’s raining and the car is giving her hell
She can’t get a cab and she’s got a big 8:15
That night, she watches the coffins come home from the war and grieves for
the mother who will never hold her
baby to her breast again….

She is Sandy Koufax
pitching to Felix Mantilla,
A banker pony
in the Kill Devil Hills.
A peripatetic mendicant
in love with a quondam Whig.
She’s an American poet!
She’s an American poet!

This poem first appeared on my MySpace blog, Full Mental Jacket, on 8/17/2007

This entry was published on 08/17/2007 at 2:51 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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