“deep south” by L. K. Thayer

hormones a raging
can’t remember what’s up
just that it’s all
breaking down
going deep South
give me a mint julip
make that a double
sit me on a porch swing
but hey,
wait a minute baby
I ain’t ready to go
out to pasture
just yet
you betcha, not yet
stay in check
hold on, suck it in, slurp it down
get it up,
swing it over my shoulder
whatever I gotta do
it ain’t quittin’ time, see
I’m fightin’ false tooth
& hang nail
I don’t wanna give up
just cause gravity
is beatin me down
I will tugboat, this barge
up the river
paddle my
cottage cheese ass
over the falls
adopt a Southern drawl
cause this babe is just startin
to spread her bat wings
different bat time,
different bat station
time to sing,
time to dance,
time to shout
I am not down for the count
you cannot
me the fuck out!
L.K. Thayer
© 2013

“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
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
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