Thursday, March 1, 2007


Tammy Trendle

because

of empty doorways
and background noise

it is the season
everything decorated green
like the light flashing

saying don't stop
before it turns

water in an office
fountain dream
of bare feet because in winter

imagine
a short skirt.


Losing Touch

She slipped once
into the neighborhood lake.
My sister and I skipping in saddle
shoes across stones. Suddenly her hair
in slow motion, I held on to her arm

when the river began to rise. Teenaged
afternoon laying out on the rocks, the current
stronger than I. She taught herself
to swim. Still, I am unable to

hold my breath for very long. Inefficient
in water, I manage to keep my head
from drowning in the stacks of paper
on my desk. Pull myself to shore

in a picture on the wall - -
the sun setting through the windshield of a truck.
A silhouette of someone waiting
for the light to turn.

I can't remember the last time
we spoke on the phone.


She used to dress me like Doris Day

It was the end of the world
when Rock Hudson died. I was ten.
Watching t.v. with my mother. At Church
on Sunday the preacher said it was God’s
punishment for being gay. And don’t
kiss anyone or drink after them because
we need to protect ourselves from this
new virus I’d never heard of

before this actor, like the President
who I voted for the previous year
in our elementary school faux election.
Because they said if Mondale won
there would most certainly be
a nuclear war.


Curiosity

I remember when
the dog mounted it
for the first time
on the orange shag.
I asked why
and mother told me
because it felt good.

And I remember how it felt
between pink walls when
no one was looking except
round glass eyes that never shut, yarn
hanging in soft braids over lace shoulders,
hard nose stitched in an X
to mark the spot,
blushed cheeks on face flattened
from all the rubbing.

*previously published in Thieves Jargon - Issue 34


Cookies and Cream

I imagine you
eating an Oreo cookie
at my desk, slowly unscrewing
the top from the bottom
the way you look at me
from the creamy center, talking
with your mouth full.

*previously published in Hiss Quarterly - Volume IV




2 comments:

djuana said...

Tammy: these are great. Your diction flows like water, & the subjects you take combine to give a peek into a toney observant sensibility. I enjoyed - thanks for the read!

dj

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