11.29.2013

Alice

You lit
like butane
creased
on a Snyder chair
trembling like papers
rolled with a jones
Yet
held your ash
held it still
steely
steady gaze
past my ear
Held my breath
prayed for it to drop
counted by Mississippis
till it crumbled
You toked Death
for so long
but when it came
I was unprepared

For my occasional music prompt to the Real Toads, honoring Lou Reed. Poem #29 of 30 Poems In November (eek!) to benefit Center for New Americans.

9 comments:

  1. It seems we're never prepared, no matter how much we think we are. You definitely captured the essence of L.R. with this one, Marian. Great prompt!

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  2. Do I sense a little Alice B. Toklas in here, clever one? I always loved Brownies. And the unpreparedness is viral, truly, despite the continuous inhales.

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  3. I had to read this a few time Marian - it it certainly could have been from a Lou Reed lyric

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  4. The last four lines ring so true for all of us, who have lost someone who has made a huge impression on our lives. How can we ever be prepared to face the inevitable?

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  5. to be prepared for what we never want to think about...questions we don't ask...

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  6. Even when we see the self-destructive choices, death catches us unprepared. You said this well.

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