The Poetry Of.
Anita Dahlman........................
Testament
My brother left a message
"If you want to reach me,
trust the post office"
not the connection
snapped by ice
No longer searching for evidence
of belonging'in zero degrees
trespasses are indelible
in his homeless memory
He has no concern for the cries
of sisters abandoned
when he chose his unannounced
departure on a northbound train
My brother's only friend is dying-
beyond rescue but with concern
in death, considering his friend,
my brother, his brother
With final will a brother leads
a brother home to the house
he bought to die in
and there my brothers live
a little while yet
a message waits, unheard.
Spree
I rode a lurching go-cart at Kmart today
on a demolition derby fast track
riding roughshod in the lingerie aisle
spilling bras and panties with abandon
as my high-spirited mechanical steed
lunged through and nor around obstacles
knocking into everything and any hapless
soul in the stands-
handicapped so heavily
a modest pace was futile-
I was on a careening bumper car
halted only by the narrow passage
of the checkout lane
where the buck
stopped me
good.
cheers
from this distance
I'm reading you
in spite of
the dropped connection
lying still and mute
listening to your daring
reports of bottled conquests
dancing with strangers
calling from unknown
numbers or those privately
blocked from identity
(numbers I will never
pick up) casually
like a line easy enough
to discern
as just a message
from deep inside
a worm-filled
bottle, bottomed up
until early, cold light
that wakens you
in easy company
no longer strange
to drive hours upon hours,
baring a new license
stamped "free"
unleashed you are
from any commitment
excepting your own
license to drive
daring with the
enticement of alcohol-
infused delirium
and distanced now
that ice has frozen
the lines once holding
me captive, a connection
I drop as easily as, say,
a strange and empty bottle,
deserted by all,
save the hallucinating worm.
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