Decluttered, depersonalized,
undecorated, denuded,
stripped, dismantled,
unhabituted.
Ghosts of stuff
in squares and rings
I’m a material girl:
I miss my things.
Category Archives: Family
Connections: August 16.17
Siblings teach us early on
the gentle art of sharing
MOVE OVER! HOG! YOU’RE ON MY HALF!
while Mom eats worms, despairing.
Thanks again to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.
Connections: August 13.17
My family’s in the garden
the past grows ever green
my mom is in the phlox
most surely, though unseen
her dad in the tomatoes
my green-thumbed Grandpa Mauck
son of North Carolina
whose hills rolled in his talk
Grandma O’Hern in moss roses
her summer’s tried-and-true
her son, my dad, in marigold
(the only flower he knew!)
the dill for an unknown
its air a bit of mystery
but I know it figures somewhere
in my leafy family history
I don’t come (as they say) from money
I come more from dirt
so it’s good to feel them back
in horticultural concert.
Connections: August 8.17
My grandma’s tub had feet
and Olympic-pool-sized feeling
her toilet had a chain
that hung down from the ceiling.
More, the bathroom window
was tall and opened wide
so fresh air and scent of train
could cleanse the room inside.
Now I have this footless
peculiarity
someone mean invented
to taunt and bully me.
It can’t be cleaned without
risking tendinitis
when I fold to fit its contours
it gives me rigor mortis.
It’s called a garden tub
a pity and a shame
someone ought to sue
for slandering garden’s name.
The window can’t be opened
the toilet’s in a box
so I reach way back in memory
where my grandma’s bathroom rocks.
Connections: July 24.17
Maybe you remember
my Christmas tree mishap
when it toppled over
and flattened carpet nap.
Family ingenuity
perhaps aesthetics-free
brought it back to standing
with pragmaticality.
And now my poor tomato
bowed by wind and rain
lists like my old tree
risking break and sprain.
So whether Yule tradition
or heavy-laden vine
when the question comes from listing
the answer comes from twine.
Connections: May 22.17
Many the bedtime this has seen
and one day might see again
but who knows how the tucking-in
will be technified by then?
Connections: May 21.17
What’s in a back yard?
A little grass, a little sun
a little bit of garden
a little bit of fun
a haven for the rabbits
where dandelions bloom
the fresh-aired open-concept
original family room
where games and make-believe
work and play combine
but victim of aesthetics:
I miss the old clothesline.
