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And that's just the start of it. Remember grandma's story? Back in the Fifties word came down they were searching the neighborhood for communist literature. They went over the house, attic to basement, throwing out anything that might give them away. They were exposed anyway – on the top shelf of the bookcase in Aunt Edith's bedroom they found a copy of the Girl Scout Handbook.
He knew they'd eventually confiscate the plants, but he no longer needs that smoke wafting around him. On quiet days, in spring and summer, he can lie on the hill behind the house, the tall grass blowing around him, and just look. He feels his head start to lighten, his heart beat so loudly it sounds like native drums. Gradually the muscles in his arms and legs relax. His left forearm, fractured in a skateboarding accident years ago, no longer hurts. He's almost unaware of his arthritic hip. And all the drivers pounding on their horns and screaming obscenities seem background players in his soothing orchestra.
Rochelle says, "These poems are based on 'weird news' stories that I've dug up on the Internet (both from established sources, not from the tabloids)." Check out her web site at www.RochelleRatner.com.
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18 Apr 2008, 16:49