The brown marmosetstink bug restsupon my deckrigid in anticipationas Isweep him intoa pail ofsoapy water I could of coursecrush himsqueeze out thevery juice of himbut they aren’t calledstink bugs byaccident tending a gardenisn’t easy but when the monarchsits against apuddle of waterand the finchesmunch on echinaceaseeds and the toadscurries beneath thefallen leavesoh my heavenshe isContinue reading “Creating Eden”
Author Archives: Anne Birkam
1619
Money will follow a lieorthe lie follows the moneytake your pickboth are true When a child is separatedfrom his mother inTexas or Arizona orwhereverknow that the gun soldsouth to a drug lord inGuatemala or El Salvador orwhereverthis is the linkthis – the gun Follow the money thatfollows the lie orthe lie that follows themoneytake yourContinue reading “1619”
less than
an antforms a mound withnumerous cousinseasily stepped on a bee with stingerscannotconsume you the warp oftoad can fit intothe palm of yourhandyou can blow itto smithereens a body the colorof bark canhang from asouthern tree a girl from thereservation candisappear intonothingnever seen a journalistspeaking truthis tortured intolies – he toovanishes the world knowslots of themtheContinue reading “less than”
World’s edge*
It’s the sort of thingyou fall in love withthis bit of earththis wisp of landso narrow and thin youonly notice itwhen you fall and they know youare there of course –the geese –they give notice before the wigeons lift abovethe wood ducks cry in alarmand the ring-necks merelyfloat away where the goldeneyeswhistle in the springandContinue reading “World’s edge*”
The weary woman blues
It wasn’t like this in1972, this gut filled withanxiety – how do I pay for it?the way up – forward – out thedoor costs ever more –ever more a lifetime ofindebtedness – can Imake do as a barista ohcollege the holy grail ofadvancement enclosesthose of ordinary means intoa cycle of owing unto deathevery generation startsContinue reading “The weary woman blues”
June 2022
This is a lamentfor decency gone astraya nod to everyday womenon this sad day, Shaye Moss – perhaps the rose of youthwill bloom in splendorraise a garden over somegraveyard bones – for all my casting stones atheavenly bodies aboveyou shine a light herein the dark keep on Miss Rosa keep on. *4th public hearing ofContinue reading “June 2022”
Construction
The road ahead of meis blocked –orange barrels –yellow tapemen whistling Dixieeverywhere Detouring is a thingthese daysif you want to gethome I can just hearthem – say –a blue-winged warbler –perhapsbuzz buzzin my waybuzz buzzwhether window paneor turbinebuzz buzz“man oh manmigration is such a bitchanymore” And beaching is a thingif you are a whaleor gettingContinue reading “Construction”
The drunkards
Oh my lovelykitty catnipping at the leafof a most peculiarsort of plantplucking at wingsbatting at micethis drunken sortof love is notcivilized butthen you neverprofessed to becivilized did you Alas the worldof civilization isan inhibiting sortof place – a lostgarden filled withvipers that biteand sting poorwoman forcedto raise a childwith her violatornot that folks whohave neverContinue reading “The drunkards”
A protest song
It is something music does to us –reaches into an inner worlda peculiar sound –this –the madness of sistersdaughtersbreed cowsmaresfeeding – getting fat – breedinga cow has asingular life indeed It is the voice ofa geriatric diva*this story of lovegone to gambling –drink -excess belonging tothe proclivities ofprivileged men oh most dastardlybrother – theBride ofContinue reading “A protest song”
Tough birds
Every woman can hear you“Na…….ncy”“Na……………..ncy!”these weaker vessels whocarry water jugsand fruit basketson top of their headsbabies inside their belliesand in their armswho chase away snakesand rescue childrenfrom angry cowswho trap vermin andstrangle chickenswho gather their youngand keep them safeevery woman hears youand we are not amused November 2022
Anne's mediocre poetry 