poetry critical

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Sally
izzov

Grandma you didn’t wait for me.
 1
 
 
I got lost in your tomato garden.
 2
Green leafy dressed debutantes
 3
plump red lipstick,
 4
dancing plum cheeks.
 5
 
 
They spun me
 6
around and around,
 7
till I got dizzy and
 8
forgot I was a child-
 9
remembered I was dreaming.
 10
 
 
Your thick grandma hands wake
 11
me up mornings, kneeding my
 12
brain, wrinkling its wrinkles
 13
between floured fingers.
 14
 
 
You sit like misses potato head
 15
on my shelf.
 16
 
 
Holes where your ears should be.
 17
Holes where your eyes could be.
 18
 
 
I take an old italian women's mustache,
 19
push it and pull it over your lips.
 20
I stuff basil leaves behind your
 21
your ears.
 22
 
 
I call 1-800-grandma
 23
with fingers tied, hairs tied,
 24
toes tied, tummies tied.
 25
 
 
I toss hail mary's down
 26
Bronx alleys like bowling
 27
ball bait.
 28
 
 
And as old wooden spoons
 29
turn autumn Sundays
 30
belly up in bubbling
 31
pots,
 32
 
 
I make one wish:
 33
just to hear my mother
 34
say mom.
 35

19 Mar 07

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sandburger



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Comments:

This is very beautiful. Makes me want to know Sally.

I love those potato heads. They were fun, no? Your nana sounds lovely.

Thanks for the read,
Polly.
 — PollyReg

Enjoyed the dance, the ride, the spin, the dream's imagery. What a beautiful tribute to her.
What a finely crafted sweet piece. Ripe with imagery and original metaphors and scenes.
I can feel the soothing of those floured hands on my brain.
Line 19 perhaps should read woman's? Line 21-22 has a double your?
Tossing hail mary's down Bronx alleys... lovely.
 — sandburger

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