“Puddle” by Margie Louise Goodspeed

There’s an ink spot on the French tablecloth
An ink spot on the white Duvet cover
An ink spot on the ecru pillow case.
All my pens. My spots. My marks.
Squeak goes the fingernail.
Guten Morgen
Achoo
There was blood on the slip
worn as a nightgown. A little cold
water and no harm, no foul. It
dried so fast hanging on the
embroidery.
Caw
Hiddee Ho
Press skin to skin
Tom punted the football
He was in the middle of the gutter,
But good at punting. My Aunt died
In a crosswalk by a wolf whistle.
Today I’m weary. Weary like a
Puddle must be of its view.
I wish some playful child would
Stomp a saber tooth rubber shoe
Cross my thin mirror of a skin
So that I’m splattered about, collecting
Sand, petal, insect with the pull
Of gravity back to a whole, minus
A splash here or there. I’ll just
Lie here and evaporate ‘til there’s
Nothing left.

Photo & Poem by

Margie Louise Goodspeed
Los Angeles, 19 October

All Rights Reserved

© 2009

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5 comments

  1. lkthayer · December 19, 2009

    I so love this poem Margie… “I’ll just Lie here and evaporate ‘til there’s
    Nothing left.” it leaves me with aching and moves me like a sad movie and unhappy ending…bravo for moving me with your artistry. -LK

    • Margie Goodspeed · December 19, 2009

      🙂

  2. Lordy · December 19, 2009

    Such deep feeling with words that splash and splatter…. Makes you want to go round dabbing the stains!

    • Margie Goodspeed · December 19, 2009

      thanks Lordy.

  3. Adesh Kaur · December 27, 2009

    WOW! You are an amazing poet. I love this poem. Well done, Margie.

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