Be your own hammerbeam angels of the air (just_the_ash) wrote in t_g_c,
Be your own hammerbeam angels of the air
just_the_ash
t_g_c

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First draft

It's a very clichéd thing to do, writing a poem to spring. So I did, and the whole kind of point here is to see whether this is going anywhere (I quite literally carried an earlier version of this around in my jeans pocket for days -- narrowly avoiding washing it!) despite the cliché factor.

De Mayo

May, my sister, you tart
    the earth, striding it, white fat-
        dappled thighs, and all.

No tree like the dogwood: four pink
    petals, or champagne
        or virgin’s-wedding

eggshell, prop me up.
    Conventional magnolias
        rot fast. You give

too freely,
    at the first drenching
        shower, become

an accountant.
    Pantyhose! Horrible
        humid slip,

clinging, the corporate trappings:
    they don’t appreciate
        hyacinth ways,

pero las nubes
    pleñas de lluvia
        me cantan, sin

palabras, sin
    vibraciones, except
        in my tendons.

The petals must fall, but let
    them fall: they display
        the wealth of a proud woman,

rings, earrings, necklaces, white
    and shameless pink, green
        blouse is all my joy.

May, let down your clashing
    immigrant hair,
        and I’ll take you for beer, May,
        O, May, I’ll take you for strawberry wheat beer.
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