Look Here Too, Pamela Alexander


Look Here Too, Pamela Alexander (22  lines)

Next time you post that fruity paper sculpture picture-

you know matte white with golden phallic swirls

your scalp all gleamy like candied apples, neanderthal ridge

like a mounded fruit basket,

next time you post across my page with your slender folding fingers

reaching with hers in Warrior one on Coronado Heights

wearing  arty turtlenecks like fruit baskets wearing  cellophane,

I may just vomit a bit in my mouth,

next time I see you in flowering lotus, origami creases,

those spirals held in place with Elmer’s glue,  

you could answer the questions in my email sent 4 years ago.

Your silence in the Cloud is as loud as your buddha sitting on your shelf.

If you can’t at least give a reason for silence- like

“I’m not interested in you anymore.” or “Long distance relationships just don’t work.”

don’t be trespassing on my facebook page with Down’s syndrome girls draped around your shoulders like a bouquet  of grapes on your vine,

or holding HER hand in “fruited plains” of sunflowers.

I won’t seek you on the web- your flat dimensional imprint hiding in my hard drive –

my life is 3 dimensional, fat and meaty.

Time like fruit ripens

becoming  compost with fruit fly mists,

soil to bury you in my dreams.


First published in Rat’s Ass Review, Love and Ensuing Madness, 2016


Published by: Basicallybarb

Barbara A Meier is a poet, teacher, and mother, trying to write her way out of Kansas, anxiety and depression. Instead of indulging in feeling like garbage, trash, or rubbish, she chooses to examine the debris of her life by writing poems about it. After all as a forgiven, child of God, simultaneously saint and sinner, she is loved and cherished by her God.

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