Attitude with Wheels
She dabs on perfume,
guards herself with modern armor--
high heels, shiny silver jewelry,
bright pink nail polish,
and rides off in her black Mustang,
racing towards the legend of time,
the clock's hands rolling like the wheel
of fortune. She hopes all will turn
favorably for her for once,
as the road stretches on,
looking onto the edge
of more hopeful days,
the horizon beautiful and clear
as she meets the unknown
with an innate confidence
and just enough fear
to keep her determined.
Step into Tomorrow
A heart sinks into winter's cold
with the reluctance that comes
from a hard life, a husband who lies,
cheats, and then lays blame
on all but himself, the violator.
Yet after sunsets are sunrises
and the hope of the new.
Walking the tightrope across limbo
to the other side is scary,
but it's a risk one must take
to catch the sunrise or rainbow--
leave the ghosts and their times
behind--winds and changes blowing
through one's clothes and hair as one tries
to move forward, guard against falling.
Leave the hells of the past behind;
bring on the translucent beginnings
of a new horizon--walk towards it,
reach out, take hold of new dreams:
step into tomorrow.
Trying to Disappear
The city lights called her
with their alluring glow.
She walked in high heels
as if they were nothing
and she weighed no more than air
or a feather. She thought about
the man who betrayed her
and about how he got away
with hurting so many.
Bands in bars sent music
into the night; each sound
rushed at her, flew through her
as she passed by open doors.
Where would she go now?
Who would matter to her? To whom
would she matter, she wondered,
as sounds leaped and reverberated,
hard and cool, soft and wild, around her.
She tried to forget him, the pain
he handed to her, and the emptiness.
Selfish, wicked man, ugly man,
terrible man, sinning man, breaker of all,
incapable of sincerity or promise-keeping.
She thinks these things of him as she walks
into the night and its calling lights.
No resolution in sight, she enters one place,
hides inside its smoky, dark cocoon,
orders a drink, and hopes her answers
will come to her as the night's haze
settles in like a drug
that brings some strange measure
of peace and hope. She cries a little,
but no one notices. She sips, she waits,
she smokes a neighbor's cigarette
and lets the alcohol and music
into her blood.
A Drive with You
I'd love to take a drive with you
along the white sandy beaches,
to play the radio loud, open the windows to day's blue.
To play the radio loud, open the windows to day's blue,
to smell the fresh salt air rush through the car,
how I'd love to take a drive with you.
We could sing along, wouldn't need anything to say.
The world would seem like something new as we begin
to play the radio loud, open the windows to day's blue.
Nothing could be so right or true
than to let the hours, like the beach, stretch on.
How I'd love to take a drive with you.
The wind would tangle our hair as it blew through
the car--yes, it would be so right
to play the radio loud, open the windows to day's blue.
The beach calls out to me, to you--
the white sands opening, the water
racing us--and
I'd love to take a drive with you.
To play the radio loud, open the windows to day's blue.
|
 
|
Maura Gage is an Associate Professor
of English at Louisiana State University at Eunice. She is also editor of The Louisiana Review. She has lived all over--Pennsylvania, Colorado, Florida, South Carolina, and, for the past four years, in Louisiana in a small town just a few exits west of Lafayette. She is a big fan of www.the-hold.com.
• click here for
Creative Writing Poetry Submissions
and Paper Proposals on Popular Culture Poetry
Poets for the 2003 Popular Culture Association Conference
to be held in New Orleans, Louisiana.• Louisiana Review review w/ michael basinski • |
|