FOUR POEMS

The Long Blue Dress I whooshedthrough the party. I grewa set of invisible hands. I was flower girlto the Commonwealth where lovers danced a dancecalled the snowdrift. Sugar mapleshelicoptered samarasin my glass. The dogs slackenedin their webs of shade. A democracyof clouds formed, a stormwas decided. Everyone inside,candles on. I sayit makes sense! Every raindropa little bell, every switchbackand holler baptized. But it feltso good to cry. I stackedthe wood so high I never again left.I never again wore shoes. My long blue dresssuggested my power, my powerful sadness.And you and you and youand the gyrating populace and everyonewas there. Bobby Boris Pickett For no real good reasonexcept for the gravity of being alive all the time, I wept in silence in a corner of the farm.I climbed the pawpaw tree and shook it hard and had no bra on and you whistled from below,waving your hilarious pawpaw stick, and my wagging boobs waved back…