hurt

the neighbor has a backyard satellite dish the size of a space ship. Dormant, it just sits there

pointing like the beast it is, to Mars or to Saturn without as much as an index finger. Curtis lost

his cutting baloney at "Johnson's Fresh Meats Market" and I stopped asking years ago "did it hurt"?

And he said, "yeah it hurt, when it happened, but not anymore". Like a lost love perhaps, you know when

you think of their soft lap or the curricular of their being? Some people are smooth like that,

round on their sides and intimate in the images they bring to you from other dimensions.  Then some

people you use to love, just make you want to fling their asses over the tallest fence

imaginable.

Reviews

[Terpsichore]

There are poets who write beautiful poems about roses and butterflies and suchlike, those that rant, rave and rail against the travails of the world, those that do no more than spill out inner angst in the form of self absorbed mutterings; then there is that rare breed of poet who's writing is so instinctively insightful, that the reader is left in no doubt that true poetry is still very much alive and well.

Sufficient unto the day for me to observe that you are in camp of the rare.

T

[h d e rushin]

I love you Terpsichore for being brave in a time when poetry, not the art form but the act,
bows to the bulwark of the seawall when the ship is obviously listing. But I have never been vexed.
No spirit has ever visited me. The muse, who ever he or she has embodied, has never met me, nor I he or she. I write poems based solely on what others have written..I know it may sound strange, but you are a far more influence on me than any one influential thing on earth. Which goes back to what I always preach...."You can't write poetry without reading it". Because by reading it, you know what's expected, and as well, know the expectations....Thank you my friend..dana

[W.k.kortas]

Those old-time satellite dishes are endless sources of contemplation, aren't they? They just seem like they should bring down communication from cookbook-toting aliens. There is the notion of the long-ago, the things that are alien to us, things which reside only in "other dimensions" now, both the tangible and intangible, all through this piece from stem to stern. The weaving of the disparate here--lost index fingers and lost loves--is so subtle that we almost never see it coming.

[h d e rushin]

thank you wk.....as I drift in here to spy on the works of others...I cherish your insight as always..
dana

[JC]

I get this vibe like you are observing and thinking at the same time, looking out the window and hit with nostalgia, one thought leading to another like the rush in the brain when you're trying to sleep, creates a density of imagery and philosophy.

[h d e rushin]

thank you JC for those insightful words my friend.....dana

[M. Shepherd]

You remind me of Gabriel Garcia Marquez in that he makes the details into the story itself. (But also that in 100 years there are so many miraculous and peculiar events that could occur in the space of one family that an entire drop dead gorgeous book can be written about just their everyday life, really, and after you read it you walk around in a lost daze as though you've been returned to earth by aliens and you've lived 100 years on some other planet, fallen in love, had children, died. Now you're back on earth and you've burned the toast.) But you give such rich life to satellite dishes, to disembodied digits. And so casually, no hullabaloo or grandiosity, there is a sort of offhanded ease to your writing, yet it retains a scrutinizing eye and very pointed and directional thought.

[h d e rushin]

thank you my dearest Marcie.............Words to live by........that's what you offer....dana

[Lyn Anderson]

I love the play on use to love (definitely a dual meaning there) yup -- there were those whose butts deserve a good flinging, or kicking, as the case may be.

[h d e rushin]

thank you KL.....I was just fooling around......but thanks for stopping by....dana

[jacob erin-cilberto]

even if they were once smooth and comfortable...ex lovers we sometimes wish we had thrown over the fence, or given up for cable.

[h d e rushin]

thank you my dear brother..for those kind remarks...dana