Any Heavens

If there are any heavens

my mother will all by herself

have one.

It will not be a pansy heaven

nor a fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley.

It will be a heaven of solid yellow roses

with sturdy thick notched stems

not prone to bending.

 

The blooms will be embarrassingly,

Sinfully fragrant, the size of

baseballs when fully blazing.

They’ll radiate light in their yellowness and

never die.

Washed Up..

When did everyone start washing with Purell

Every time you turn around?

As if we could prevent anything.

Stop germs

if they have any interest in us

whatsoever.

When did greeting cards start costing 12 dollars,

for real.

No one else notices:

The guy in front of me buys four.

Unfazed.

And while I’m at it

When

Did it become a crime to dress.

You’re so dressed up,

spat out

like the worst possible indictment,

And there is me.

The unforgivable,

in heels, and ok,

maybe

a sequined brooch.

 

Writer and Poet

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Tricia McCallum

Always be a poet. Even in prose.
Charles Baudelaire.

In essence I am a storyteller who writes poems. Put simply, I write the poems I want to read.[…]

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