Laurie's Junk Drawer

[BruisedOrange]

Oh, Laurie, this Mother really made me laugh. That opening line is so perfect. I feel myself sitting at this table with the virtuous daughter. I'll keep your 10,000 baby monarchs in mind, next time I'm in such a situation!

[Julie]

Day 175: Pushed to the back and forgotten, the substance
no longer fits a category and is philosophical

I love this.

Enjoyed all of the offerings, but this line was the one that really made me happy.

[Steven]

'No One Speaks of Steve' is powerful stuff. Having now read the story following Brian's link, even more powerful.

There is an absence
of trees in the high plains
of Laramie and of silence.
There is something in the constant
blowing of the wind
that pushes grief into the skin,
that holds it tenacious
and relentless as the wild
rose splayed across the fences of Wyoming.

The line breaks here are perfectly done.

Mother to Vegetarian Daughter is wry and sardonic, easy to identify with the speaker and the details the poem accumulates before the pay-off last line.

Great work...

[5th column]

Hey there! I finally made it. These feel like real departures from what I've read of you before. My favorite is the science experiment although I wonder if the reader could be left a fraction less hand held at the close? Altogether a thread that feels fresh and as though you're taking chances which is what NaPo should be all about.

[Angela]

Laurie,

Interpretation of dreams is horrifying with the need to pee and the caged animals! The first strophe is actually kinda amusing. I am picturing the hip(pie) dad. I can see his earrings winking goodbye in the rear view. The last lines chastise me for grinning in the first place. Nicely done.

Angela~

[cookala]

heya Laurie! back for more goodness.
My Daughter's Fridge is a Science Experiment - this made me lmao because I've done exactly that, left food in the fridge so long it finally just ate itself and disappeared. embarrassing, but true. and you got the decay sequence just about right, too.
No One Speaks of Steve - this is so powerful, and touching and tragic and painful. exp that final strophe that paints enduring grief so well. well done. kudos for the way you wrote this!
Mother to Vegetarian Daughter - this made me chuckle. mom's know just how to push their children's buttons and put them in their place when needed. sweet!

[Harry R]

Hey Laurie. Nice poeming. The recurring dreams, Lorena Bobbitt and ’No One Speaks of Steve’ stand out for me on first reading, but there’s all kinds of really good stuff here.

[PClem]

Matt, Angela and Harry - thanks for coming by. Glad you find something to enjoy. Matt - the departure is less about taking chances and more about having taken a break and learning how to listen to myself. Cookie - you are a trooper! Thanks for your continued support! Missed yesterday, posting two to get caught up.

Sometimes I Think I'm Having a Different Conversation Than Everyone Else


There comes a point
in every shopping trip
when there aren't enough fists


for holding. It was PetCo
and the pizzle sticks
on the lower shelf


of aisle three. The Day-Glo
orange doggie boomerang,
the sesame seed coated


seventy percent sort of
chicken crunchie bits.
I swear


I said Get me a cart?
He huffed No!
as the couple behind retreated,


and we began the sort of back
and forth that rocks
between confusion and umbrage,


beggars understanding.
His eyes grew wide
when I begged please.


He became mute
when I demanded explanation.
The paling of his complexion


when I said I'll do it myself!
brought the first whiff
of comprehension.


What did you think I said?
He leaned close, whispered,
Did you fart?



Why We Love Vampires


We want an easy out
from those mid-point conundrums -
no more cat in the box, dead
or not or that glass, how to measure
degree of fullness. We don't want
bromides about journeys, give us
destinations. The meal,
fully cooked, presented
with a sprig of basil,
throw the baby out
with the bathwater, yes please do
if it isn't made to order.
Give us the certainty that comes
in the grab and the piercing,
the white gape.
Let us taste
our own salt, the loss,
the merlot gush of artery's blood
and the lessening
of ourselves to an orange wash
of sunset nodding to night.
Let us end so that we may start
again, wide open, new made
with an oh! of surprise
at the new world, exactly
the same as the old.

[kristalynn]

Mother to a Vegetarian Daughter. I love the ending, very funny! I can sort of relate, my daughter is sort of vegetarian, but recently she said you only live once so every once in a while she will have Chicken McNuggets at McDonald's.

[PClem]

Thanks kristalyn!

The Girl and the Dog Named Holstein


She says she'd leave a boyfriend
but not her dog
to join the Peace Corps.
We'll see. She and that dog
keep testing the boundaries
of love. Last week he jumped
off the wrong side
of a pier, the side with no steps,
the shore too steep. Just to see
her jump into the depths
and pull him out. He eats
her underwear. She dresses him
in black derby hats and orange
bowties. Cow udders
and chicken suits.
Right now she holds
his tennis ball and peers
over the edge of a cliff.
She wonders if
she chucks that ball
would he choose stay
at her command or leap
and which would prove
his loyalty most.

[Sorella]

Laurie,
That is so droll and dry and humorous at the end -- black humour indeed! Will be back and read more, but bedtime here.

sorella

[W.G.McLeod]

Hi Laurie. How Much Can You Carry resonated with me: the three sizes of pantyhose, five decades of shoes, what time does to silk and elastic and the practicality of what Dad prioritized.

My Daughter’s Fridge is a place I haven’t had the joy of experiencing yet. Mine are all still at home. I’m not sure if this is something to look forward to or not but it’s still a chuckle.

Sometimes I Think has wonderful line breaks at L3, L5, L7, L10, L26. I think I’ve had this non-conversation with members of my family.

The Girl and the Dog – I’m not sure. He did jump ‘off the wrong side of the pier’ already. Maybe blinded less by love and more by indulgent obedience.

[cookala]

Young Girl and Dog Named Holstein is delightful. I like the touch of dark humor at the end, and the underpants.

[Janet]

Ah! Love the girl and her dog poem. Killer ending, delightful read!

[Featherless Biped]

"Lorena Bobbitt": fascinating (though in many respects, not surprising) how she was elevated into a cultural symbol. I like the power play here. And it's fun to spot connections between what I've been thinking and other people's very different Freudian poems. Great moment with the sausage in S2.

Wonderful storytelling through objects in "How Much Can You Carry?" My favourites are the shattering silk, and that Milk of Magnesia punchline.

"My Daughter's Fridge": Very funny details, but for some reason I'm on the defensive now. Certainly not because I have ever done this myself. Perish the thought! And definitely don't tell my mother! Day 92 is wonderfully gross.

"No One Speaks of Steve": Ouch. I like how it starts out almost sexy, draws the reader in, and then hits them with the reality of hate crimes. I feel like there's some important and horrible moral about the role of sexual entitlement in homophobia... straight or supposedly straight men who can't handle the idea of another man being an object of male sexual desire.

"Mother to Vegetarian Daughter": Another one where the mother gets in some witty digs at her daughter. Will have to send it to my vegan roommate, who raised concerns about my honey-eating.

I love both the punchline and the catalogue of disgusting PetCo meats in "Sometimes I Think I'm Having a Different Conversation Than Everyone Else".

Persuasive take on vampires and immortality in "Why We Love Vampires". (Personally, I also love them because they wear lots of eyeliner and bite you, but I'm kind of a weirdo.)

"The Girl and the Dog Named Holstein" is just wonderful all the way through. The underwear-eating and the silly costumes are particularly good details. I see Wendy's point about consistency, but I love the ending... if one of them has to go, I think it should be the jump off the pier.