Thirty Going Poem by Natalie Shapero
Thirty Going
on seventeen, I come from hearty straw.
My grandpa wore a gallon
hat. My grandma, like a shogun,
bun and shawl. For their honeymoon,
they went to the movies. No one
knows what they saw.
You arrive with licorice, cigarettes,
the documentary on Woody Allen.
Don't feign a passion for his start
in tv, or his clarinets,
or Love and Death. Just skip to the Soon-
Yi part.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 7:23:10 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Well conceived and nicely penned with insight. Thanks for sharing Natalie.