Who Will They Put In Charge Of Vanishing She Said Aloud

Who Will They Put In Charge Of Vanishing

who will they put in charge of vanishing?

she said aloud looking out through grandmother's

mother of pearl opera glasses

on a strange landscape

and in a thin sleeved dress,

said her grandmother, ghostly, chiding

in this weather.

how do they garner the entries?

finding which to screen-

which to leave on the floor-

which to ignore permanently.

outside, the larks sing.

bluebonnets blow ungathered.

children may look at the moon

almost in the same way,

where they can;

seeking freedom from old schoolwork

when they can.

oh, who will they choose?

who who who

twit the owls of the Far North

and the mockingbird mockingbird mockingbird

sounds go forth through the apples trees as before

and the pink cakes fall in the ovens when the screen doors

Slam.

and jam gets made.

and things to put it on.

but we don't hear from the contest owners.

we don't hear from the juried, from the important

ones sizing up auroras through a pinhole

and disguised as the lovers of beauty;

in love with designer poetry, their own parties

the brand of their zine, actually...

don't press the pleats out, grandmother said

and I cried not from the music, Grandmother, ever!

not a word not a word chirped the mockingbirds

from the ones who couldn't decipher

anything written on snow

mary angela douglas 29 july 2014;rev. 30 july 2014