Popular Tricks

The aisles are filled with seasonal,
sparkling holiday knacks. She gawks
at the pink and red heart shaped
options. The gray lump of a lady next to her
mumbles, “my teeth, my teeth.”
She picks up the lady’s
chompers,
wipes them on her shirt, and places
them in her own mouth. She looks
at the rice thinking of her mailman Bill
and how single he really is.
The lady slowly follows her
yelping down the aisles.
She rubs both of her gums like they
are fresh and sore—like a baby
teething and wishing
for world peace. Who would really
be against world peace?
The lady yells like her mouth is
a blender filled with bananas, peanut
butter, and honey, “my teeth, my teeth,
you wicked Jezebel.”

"Are We Alone? Is it Safe to Speak?" Mary Ruefle

Dear Unknown Friend,
I know I am real to you,
and though you aren't that real to me
without you I would not exist.
Certainly I would never have stepped
into this nutmeg grater
and become a pile of fine woodsy particles.
It occurs to me we are walking
piles of dust, you and I,
and still it smells as sweet
as summer winds off the coast of Zanziba
and the sails are up and off we dash
into the brine of our contentment.
I'm glad you know me well.
When I fall asleep, curling up
in a little ball, will you take me home
and hold me in the palm of your hand,
posthumously, anonymously,
and when the time is right
blow me away?

"Are We Alone? Is it Safe to Speak?"
Mary Ruefle
Trances of the Blast
Published by Wave Books

I really love this poem. It is very interesting in creating this "thing" or person and how it is affecting the voice of the poem. It gives so much intriguing detail that colors the poems content explicitly.

"Daniel" Noelle Kocot

He loved the way her hair
Curled in the rain. He
Loved her attachment to
Syzygies. He loved the way
It was always a fat man
Who had keys jangling around
His waist. He loved the sun,
The way a cat loves the sun.
He loved the ruins of old
People ambling down the street.
He loved. And lost. And
Loved again. Numb from
The waist down, there was
Nothing that he didn't love,
Practically speaking. He
Found the sex instinct was
For art and art alone. And
So he made art, and in his
Spare time, he wept. He
Kept away from edges,
Soothed himself to sleep.
He loved the fall, loved to
Rake leaves in the fall.

"Daniel"
Noelle Kocot
The Bigger World
Published by Wave Books

This poem contains a strong sense of voice. The way it describes a person for tells a lot about the person much more than they are saying. I find the poem very intriguing by its humor, word choice, and arrangement.