Keep cats
if you want to learn to cope with
the otherness of lovers.
...
Poems have order, sanity
aesthetic distance from debris.
...
In every Catholic home there's a picture
of Christ holding his bleeding heart
in his hand.
I used to think, ugh.
...
Keep cats
if you want to learn to cope with
the otherness of lovers.
Otherness is not always neglect -
Cats return to their litter trays
when they need to.
Don't cuss out of the window
at their enemies.
That stare of perpetual surprise
in those great green eyes
will teach you
to die alone.
...
Father X. D'Souza
Father of the year.
Here he is top left
the one smiling.
By the Grace of God he says
we've had seven children
(in seven years).
We're One Big Happy Family
God Always Provides
India will Suffer for
her Wicked Ways
(these Hindu buggers got no ethics)
Pillar of the Church
says the parish priest
Lovely Catholic Family
says Mother Superior
the pillar's wife
says nothing.
...
Poems have order, sanity
aesthetic distance from debris.
All I've learnt from pain
I always knew,
but could not do.
...
Luminous new leaf
May the sun rise gently
on your unfurling
in the courtyard always linger
the smell of earth after rain
the stone of these steps
stay cool and old
gods in the niches
old brass on the wall
never the shrill cry of kites
...
In every Catholic home there's a picture
of Christ holding his bleeding heart
in his hand.
I used to think, ugh.
the only person with whom
I have not exchanged confidences
is my hairdresser.
Some recommend stern standards,
others say float along.
He says, take it as it comes,
meaning, of course, as he hands it out.
I wish I could be a
Wise Woman
smiling endlessly, vacuously
like a plastic flower,
saying Child, learn from me.
It's time to perform an act of charity
to myself,
bequeath the heart, like a
spare kidney -
preferably to an enemy.
...
She dreamt of descending
curving staircases
ivory fan aflutter
of children in sailor suits
and organza dresses
till the dream rotted her innards
but no one knew:
innards weren't permitted
in her time.
Shaking her graying ringlets:
"My girl, I can't even
go to Church you know
I unsettle the priests
so completely. Only yesterday
that handsome Fr Hans was saying,
‘Miss Louise, I feel an arrow
through my heart.'
But no one will believe me
if I tell them. It's always
Been the same. They'll say,
‘Yes Louisa, we know, professors
loved you in your youth,
judges in your prime.'"
...
Well, you can't say
they didn't try.
Mamas never mentioned menses.
A nun screamed: You vulgar girl
don't say brassieres
say bracelets.
She pinned paper sleeves
onto our sleeveless dresses.
The preacher thundered:
Never go with a man alone
Never alone
and even if you're engaged
only passionless kisses.
At sixteen, Phoebe asked me:
Can't it happen when you're in a dance hall
I mean, you know what,
getting preggers and all that, when
you're dancing?
I, sixteen, assured her
you could.
...