Saturday

[Amy Lou]

Saturday (cooper glaze sienna revised)

Hiding between the wall and bed, I'm lost
in flowered seams and scowls in popcorn ceilings,
biting fingernails to nubs and shuddering
from Mother's eruptions, cousin to summer's torridity,

her wallops of thunder relentless as heated currents.
I think my world is ending. Dreaming of playmates
watching Smurfs, syrup on their breath,
a pancake hangover. Tirades beginning early

Saturday mornings. Copper Glaze Sienna,
Mom's undercover lover. Stain in a tube.
A russet sunset translated to wax
for smothering lips. Painted, a wrinkled heart

canvas atop her face, rushed afterthought,
fits of rage. The only color opposing
splotchy skin, neutral lashes, a desire
to look presentable the hour she hunts.

Through breathless mumbles struggling for climax,
her mouth puckers tight — a soprano belting,
I'm not your African American.
But African American is not

the phrase she utters. No, it will not punch
when spewing from tainted lips, crying her needs
aren't being met by the father to her regrets.
Vows of leaving never to return

become the norm. Packing treasures in a case
when banished to a room with a laminate door.
Like summer's tempest, she stops her torment,
emerging empty handed. And through

misted spectrums, Copper Glaze Sienna
has no more power to threaten alongside
blue lids, noir lashes, blush kissed cheeks over layers
of beige liquid skin. She's mom again.

[martin shaw]

Hey I like this. come back in fifteen

[martin shaw]

It's going in at the deep end, Amy.

You need to choose, poetry or prose?

I really do believe you cant be the two integrated.

Poetically, it scribes iteslf in and creates a gap in longevity for a published story writer. Otherwise it is the long road to high self esteem, but only in the cult poetry minions.

Good piece, and one to keep

[Amy Lou]

Martin!!!! Could you please dumb it down a bit? I have no clue what I just read or what you just said!

I feel poetry and prose can be blended and you don't (that I understood)

But are you saying this stinks?

[martin shaw]

Hey Looby Lou.
Yes, if you go down the poetry road it's a oneway system. Trust me.

Train of thought exposed! I''ve seen whole books like one big long poem.

[martin shaw]

Sorry.

Yes it is very good, Amy

[Amy Lou]

ok, thanks for reading

[Amy Lou]

Martin, did you really read this??? HMMM???

[martin shaw]

Yes, hmmmmmmmmmmmmm?

Though I must say again. I don't do the old fashioned stuff. Them lot are in need of resurrection to insure our shrinking economy there is still a need for leafy palms and donkies

[Amy Lou]

Are you implying that this is old fashioned????
Heehaw Heehaw donkey kong!!!!
No worries you big ape, I get what yer sayin'
Amylou