allthethingsextincbeginswith M

You know that phase when the car

lurches forward and the young girl sitting in the back is lost in luteum and Dad rolls the station wagon

thru the car wash and there is no purity left for satin to sparkle, no ancient excellence, no chandeliers 

for the older women to dust to death. No reputations, then, to uphold, just a head with turning pegs

(only the w****s wore wigs); just a city with lustful, long yards and  the singing when the push mower

turns the grasshoppers to luster and inner beauty drawn by artful inveigle / everyone dreamed in the 60's,

but then again, we collectively hated the communist and all pleasure from the neck down, was verboten/

my cousin had a baby, as I remember, during Thanksgiving I think was when her water broke, but it was kept

a guarded secret/ and to this day I don't think she knows who the father is/ just as lust knows no

accommodations without glitter or iridescent pottery to place a dying fern and all body and spirit that rattles

in the dead like marbles inside the head of the ancient mammoth uncovered by the farmer, minding his own

damn business, but plowing the Iowa fields for the soy beans he cannot sell, to a prefabricated vertebrate, excreta

as he pulls his jean hood over his balding head; as the tractor un-tombs the final breaths of Manx and beast in an

age without machinery, in a world, like today, when everything eats the next thing.

Reviews

[Robert Trakofler]

I was born in 69 and I was sold thru the nuns and purchased in 69 by my parents my birth mother was i suppose one of those unlucky recipients of well placed inveigle and probably called a w***e too:( she was pressured into giving me up by society and the stigma of an unwed single teenage mother in a very catholic community I new from a very early age I was adopted had always sensed the spirits of my ancestors presence from the time I was a toddler my mother used to say how I would talk to the walls and say things that she could never figure out how I knew:) so you could say I have always had one foot on the ground and the other in the ether pretty much all of my life:) seems in one way or another the world will always be eat or get eaten we just juggle the food sources from time to time. you have a particular genius all to your own dear Dana

[h d e rushin]

thank you Bad and happy new year..I had to get away from the coldof Detroit for a few, in Florida, which isn't what you think. There were large bugs and snakes, (I was told but I really never saw one) and many flying things that I did not recognize. Grandma's old house smelled like deep hearty laughter and water moccasins. Were still at this poetry thing I see? Your the best among us....you and Jacob...and my hero's
dana

[Robert Trakofler]

Smiling with a Blushed face:)

[redzone]

you had me in a time warp Dana, a twilight zone of the past... we did lose our youth (purity) in that station wagon, but in some ways we also gained an understanding that we did not want to live in a world where everything was just a meal for someone/something else... we failed in our attempts to create something different and better, where the meanings behind words such as 'w***e' and 'ni****' were banished from our vocabulary... where we saw each other from our natural beauty and not simply from the head up or down, but from how we saw each other connected in our colors and diversity... today we are paying for that failure.... that comet that fell and wiped out the dinosaurs began our evolutionary rise to consciousness and if we don't extinct ourselves before hand, we may yet create that world... and then even sex will be more than a back seat ride in a station wagon, it will have a much different "Beat" (a small nod to the comments between you and Jacob below)…. Dana your poem invokes and provokes and I am loving it...

[h d e rushin]

thank you dearest redzone and Merry Christmas to you and yours...dana 2019

[Beccy]

There are so many different paths a writer can approach a subject from, but you fertilize the mind in a way that no other poet does.

I won't even pretend I have a full understanding of this, save to comment that no amount of car washing can dissipate the purity within and that love from the neck up and the neck down, is what makes the world turn.

Beccy.

PS. FACEBOOK is the devil. Yes indeed, but 'tis a devil of our own making, though I have yet to succumb!

[h d e rushin]

thanks my dearest Beccy. I've tried my very best to understand the guiding principle of FACEBOOK. So much of it seems like nothing more than an open sore....lol/ And I kinda think that I am leaning so much from you (and others of course) about "timing" and "purpose" and the need to be gentle or the un-need to be Baroque. Thanks for your kind words my friend...And I hope you had a nice thanksgiving......dana

[Einstein Noodle]

Allabsolutestatementsarefalseyouknow :))))))))) all I can see in your title is sex :))))))))))))))
an experiment in abstract prose ... no rainbows in spew is there? those days, which i am inspired to recall were real weren't they ... in my high school everyone knew who the w***e was ... there was only one you know ... if pregnant .. they "went away" ... to aunt so and so or an new school ... i don't recall any ever coming back ... have to say i think this is killer "... and the singing when the push mower turns the grasshoppers to luster and inner beauty drawn by artful inveigle / everyone dreamed in the 60's," .... i dreamed a lot back then for sure ... only now i call it misguided ;} and the communists .. wow! we did the drills in grade school ... under the desk and hold your head in your hands ... i'm sure you know the rest ... which we never ever heard being Catholic and all ;)))))) closing line brings it home for me ... we seem to be in a vicious state ... i was on FB and responded to a post that said the author wished President Trump would stroke out ... i said i thought that was pretty hateful and the discussion went right to the impeachment hearings ... i was called a bunch of names as my stand remains with our President until all the evidence is in ... i didn't agree with the policies during President Obama's service but he was duly elected and Lord knows they all need prayers ... anyway ... i brought the conversation back to the post ... and she sent me the nastiest message through FB messenger and of course i am blocked ... i feel bad about the whole thing ... thoughts of bullying and kids being pushed too far .. the state of the Union when differing voices can not be heard ... wow ... anyway ... i use to have a station wagon :))))))))) we took the kids to the drive-in for all nighters ... brought a brown shopping bag full of homemade popcorn and our own pop ... kids in pj s and us in sweats ... never made it all night ... but great memories ... really wish you would read some of your "stuff" ... i imagine it whenever i visit
E.

[h d e rushin]

what I love about writers café is the many approaches to poetry. Not how the poem begins but how the view point is shaped and then delivered. That, in itself, is old school I guess. Memories are only poetically logical if they either rhyme or are aesthetic lol.. Growing up, my cousin was the only girl I knew that got pregnant. Because pregnancy meant that you were "bad" or "loose" or yes, even "whorish" but not that you made a mistake by not using contraception. Thanks dearest for your kind remarks. And as for all social media, remember. FACEBOOK is the devil.

[Einstein Noodle]

yes .... i suppose it is my friend!

[barleygirl]

I envy you the freedom to write like this . . . throwing down powerful ideas, one after another, & letting the reader put it together in whatever way each reader does. There are some stunning phrases here: "to dust to death" (such a symbol of how women in my mom's generation were so hung up on being "good housewives" - cleaning for days before having company!) Grasshoppers . . . who the hell cares what happens to the grasshoppers (when it comes to power tools, my neighbors live to make tons of noise, destroying the very thing I love about living in the wilderness). Soybeans that cannot be sold (what a way to make a political statement without going on & on -- such a concise line that says it all!) I could go on but you already have, nicely, I might add! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[h d e rushin]

thank you dearest love and first and foremost, happy holidays to you and yours..Your words here are powerful ones and I appreciate you coming here to visit me...Laugh and love hard....dana

[jacob erin-cilberto]

great ending..."everything eats the next thing" overtly...
in our day back in the sixties....it was covertly.
just reading your poem i almost felt i needed to go to confession and confess the sins i forgot to back then
those station wagons...especially the old ones with wood paneling on the sides...
and reputations, pregnancies in secret...
yes, we dreamed, we all hated the communists...most of us hated the war...
what is that beast that exists today?
will the anthropologists ever figure it out in years to come...i wonder.
j.

[h d e rushin]

confession brother? No way. Poetry is confession every since 1959. Thanks for stopping by and thanks for your kind remarks....happy holidays to you my friend....dana

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you know...you and i follow the Beats...and yes, i guess the confessional poetry that started back then...okay, I won't go....ha ha.
happy holidays back at ya, dana...thanks for being on this site....you are one of the reasons i stay here.
j.