Dorianne Laux Poems
|1.||A Short History of the Apple||12/27/2017|
|9.||Fourth of July||12/27/2017|
|13.||Life is Beautiful||12/27/2017|
|17.||Only As The Day Is Long||1/19/2016|
|18.||Ray at 14||12/27/2017|
|21.||To Kiss Frank...||12/27/2017|
Comments about Dorianne Laux
My mother went to work each day
in a starched white dress, shoes
clamped to her feet like pale
mushrooms, two blue hearts pressed
into the sponge rubber soles.
When she came back home, her nylons
streaked with runs, a spatter
of blood across her bodice,
she sat at one end of the dinner table
and let us kids serve the spaghetti, sprinkle
the parmesan, cut the buttered loaf.
We poured black wine into the bell
of her glass as she unfastened
her burgundy hair, shook her head, and began.
And over the years we mastered it, how to listen
to stories of ...
I'm remembering again, the day
we stood on the porch and you smoked
while the old man told you
about his basement full of wine,
his bad heart and the doctor's warning,
how he held the dusty bottle out to you,
glad, he said, to give it away
to someone who appreciated
its value and spirit, the years