Angela's Snippet Factory

[Angela]

16) Liberation

I walk inside my shadow
always hindered by the sun-
my flowers grow in folds
of skin, thorns puncturing
my soul. But that is a cliché
and that is not allowed, so

I drink sea water for the nutrients
and store my fortified blood
in buckets. The brigade
waits for flames to erupt,
but everything is hushed
in here.

Didn't you know that?

[Angela]

17 Gretel- After the Witch

Her mouth is twisted
and her tongue is thick,
I mean she is thick-headed.
She spews disgusting things
that taste like black licorice
and bile. She bathes her hair
with a concoction made of moss
and vines imported
from the Dismal Swamp.

Venom, too.

She picks her teeth with bones
splintered by gnawing
and never cleans up after herself-

but her hands are beautiful,
when she plucks golden
strings- birds sing and

everything chimes so wonderfully.

[Bench]

Angela,

I love the contrasting images swirling together in ‘Fantasy’. Head-pop stuff, and the idea if imbuing dandelion seeds with devastating power is genius. Great work, Ben

[Donner]

Hi, Angela,

12) Hedge Fund

I lowered my trimmers
when my neighbor said:
Finally. I can barely see
your house nowadays.

HA! Good one, and enough said in four short lines.

"Experiment #14" - I like how N relates all of the painstaking details of setting up the terrarium, only to say in the last two lines that she hopes it can fend for itself. Sort of like parenthood, isn't it.

"Death Wishes" - Are those dandelion seeds headed for the nosy neighbor's yard?

Donner

[Angela]

Thank you, Ben and Donner.

18) For PRN

Rewind the clock back to 1984-
walk with me through Spec's
double doors. Feel the thump
of some cagey beat; walk
like you belong there. Fondle
the record covers- pluck some
like hot house flowers. Tuck
them under your arm and stroll.

I was drawn to a young black man
in purple clothes. I recognized the long hair
and eyeliner, so I laid the others aside
and took this one home. No one knew
the word androgynous back then, I just knew
something strange and delicious
was twisting in my gut-

I snuck past my father like a criminal, snatched
the headphones from the console
and locked myself in my room. One flick
of the switch was all it took. With the volume
cranked, I became hooked. His voice tugged
at all the dirty things
inside of me. My hands skimmed lower
like Apollonia's did. And, you know what?

All the doves beat their wings
and flutter,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxstill.

[Julie]

Love "Hedge Fund" and your love poem to Prince.

Keep going. You can do it.

[Angela]

Thank you, Julie.

19) paisley

bent cedar-
shades of purple
at twilight

[Angela]

20) Submission

I got another rejection last night.
Maybe I was too offensive- maybe
I wasn't offensive enough. I wasn't
talking about global warming-excuse me-
climate change. There were no chem-
trails overhead, raining poison
down on the walking dead. My meat
was rare and not vilified. I don't care
what peta says; milk is not a racist drink.
I love to go plinking with my .22 and wave
an American flag from my front porch rail.
I say: God is a mystery to me. Still, I look up
every day and I am dazzled. My coccyx
often tingles, but maybe it's just a signal
that I have to take a shit. I don't know
why poetry rags don't like me. You should know
this isn't satire. That's an important point
to note. I do have a degree
from the school of hard knocks
and I don't ever use cliché as a device
or was it sex we were talking about?
Let me go all pop star for a line and say:
I kissed a girl and I liked it.
I wonder if that will help, but I really haven't
got a clue- The fucking crickets
are so distracting
over on that side of the room.

[PClem]

I love your Gretel and Hedge Fund.

[larryrap]

Hey Angela,

There's such a palpable, savage sense of dangerous, disrupted magic running through the thread that even the fragments evoke it powerfully. Screw the publications for now, they'll come through in the end.

I love "Finale", "Not Alice" scares me, "Love Spell" delivers its spell with precision, "Fantasy" devolves quickly and frighteningly from a seductive sexiness to tectonic violence, "Sealed Terrarium Recipe" is a perfect metaphor for the poems, "Liberation" is a powerful compact of frustration, threat, power and control, and "Gretel" re-images these with gusto - I'd love to read related poems with the other characters in the story.

Very exciting and overwhelming.

[Angela]

Thank you for stopping by, PClem and larryrap. Your comments (and all the comments of all of those that have stopped by) mean so much. I am still horribly behind and that sucks so much. This naPo is a beast! I am determined to get caught up and actually finish this month with thirty under my belt. I know I owe all of you some attention. I am grateful for the extension that was given, that will give me time to hang around and fluff you all up!

21) The storm that I caused

-after reading page twenty-seven
of Kushiel's Dart-
xxxxxxxxxxxxby Jacqueline Carey

My delayed virginity transformed
the prick of my unworth to a pearl
of great price. Once I reached the age
of nineteen, I found purity was a hot
commodity. Well, there was that one time-
that we don't talk about- when I sampled
a tool with a shallow mouth- Man,
that caused a storm. Like a tornado,
but more short-lived. Have you ever seen
a dust storm- no, a dust devil- in a parking lot

or a baseball field where all of those boys
are wearing baseball pants? Smooth, white
fabric slicked over young, taut asses- cups
stretched to capacity, long legs flexing- ready
to go already- The way they gripped
the bills of their caps
and clenched their jaws and paused,
then spit into their gloves
while they weathered the tempest-

Eh-hem

Where were we?
Oh yes, the storm that I caused-
Let's get back to the story there.
I think my point is:

I was pure.

[Angela]

22) Yankee in a Southern Diner

He said: It's un-American to serve
apple pie a la cheddar instead
of apple pie a la mode.

[kristalynn]

"Eh-hem" and beyond made me chuckle

[Angela]

Heh. Thanks, kristalynn. I am gonna make it over your way. I am just slightly panicked that I have 3 days to do 7 more poems! Plus, I have to be up at 430 to work two of those days. Bleeeh!

23) Still Life with Brando

Black and white shot- piercing gaze,
jaw clenched- teeth clamped on a butt,
smoke purling like a frame.

[Blythe]

Angela, some lovely things here. Gretel in particular was strange and effective. The Storm... also grabbed me. Great stuff. You can do it! Just leave those unfinished poem days behind. No guilt.