StarPoet Newsletter Vol. XII, No. XXX

Saturday, 23 July 2011 22:00 Last Updated on Saturday, 23 July 2011 20:31

The StarPoet Newsletter
Vol. XII, No. XXX (July 24, 2011 C.E.)

a heatwave burning in my heart

The heat fluctuates between
Oppressive and damnation;
Summer has well overstayed
With two months yet to go:
You'd think the gods would be tired
Of seeing humanity sweat.

Lisa Jain Thompson c. 2011 C.E.


WTF? A little sun is fine, but I don't look good extra crispy.

my current hometown
The Infinity-Edged Sea
No woman is beautiful With her make-up mussed, She must present well Or not at all; Unlike a man who only needs A tee shirt and a shower To be ready to conquer The world. A woman swims in a Sapphire-blue ocean, All eyes are upon her, Critics in every gaze; It's never easy being A flesh and blood goddess When every man alive Seems to think with his dick.
— Lisa Jain Thompson (July 2011)

Ability is what will get you to the top if the boss has no daughter (or son as the case may be).

tales of summer
Rehoboth in July
The air smells of fish and seaweed, Something decomposing beneath the boardwalk, Down at the far end gay boys Play volleyball on the beach, Cut bodies and cute smiles -- Off limits for any girls, But we still look, Admiring their sweat-beaded muscles, Gay or not. We set up above the high water line, Blanket, cooler, and umbrella, Marvel at the fools lying Ten feet closer to the ocean, Wonder where they'll be at four this afternoon When we will be snacking on Boardwalk Fries, Watching the tide once more roll in.
Lisa Jain Thompson (July 2011)

more tales of summer
Sand Dunes
Sand Dunes, volley ball, and horseshoes, Burgers and dogs and dogs catching Frisbees Thrown from a beer free hand, Bonfires and guitars And the sweet smell of grass, Couples drifting off to have sex, Beach music on the ocean breeze, Drifting atop the sound of waves, A good time is to be had by everyone Who remembered to take her pill.
— Lisa Jain Thompson (July 2011)

When a person is accustomed to 138 in the shade, his ideas about cold weather are not valuable....In India, "cold weather" is merely a conventional phrase and has come into use through the necessity of having some way to distinguish between weather which will melt a brass door-knob and weather which will only make it mushy. -- Mark Twain

experimenting
A Grand Circumference
He was quite long, as I remember, With a grand circumference As he stood above me directing my performance. Yes Sir, no Sir, may I breathe Sir? A few minutes later he handed me a towel, Told me to wipe my face, said I was a good girl. Would I have been younger and unencumbered, Who knows where he would have led me?
Lisa Jain Thompson (July 2011)

I reverently believe that the Maker who made us all makes everything in New England but the weather. I don't know who makes that, but I think it must be raw apprentices in the weather-clerk's factory who experiment and learn how, in New England, for board and clothes, and then are promoted to make weather for countries that require a good article, and will take their custom elsewhere if they don't get it. -- Mark Twain

The path leads west away from the soft eastern intellectual bellybuttons. Classic Starpoet. A good one.
First Light
I watched the shuttle launch, I watched the shuttle land From a camera live inside its cockpit; I saw one explode on liftoff, Another break-up in the atmosphere, Reminding us that space travel Is still not a Central Park buggy ride. When we settled this continent, When we settled the West, We earned our land life by life, My Iroquois fathers, my British ancestors, Little Sicily and Little Palermo, We came, we saw and paid the price, The future is seldom a walk in the park. Men and women die when we go into space, More of us will perish when we emigrate To the moon, to Mars, to some minor planet Circling a star a lifetime's distant from here; But West we will go and re-tribe ourselves again, Building our alabaster cities, world by world, Raising our families and burying our kin. From earth we have come, woman and man, Crawling out of the sea onto the sand, Dragging ourselves from wetland to forest Before standing upright to walk the grassland; We gather ourselves once more, step by step, Testing our endurance, our will and determination Before laying claim to our star-filled destiny.
Lisa Jain Thompson (July 2011)

the war hero
Queen of the Somme
She lost it at the Somme, Then replaced it with the prosthetic You see flourishing below her mini-dress; An ancient, disabled queen who hoisted Her scrawny World War One body onto the bar To recite The Charge of the Light Brigade Loud enough to be heard above the mixed fag Drinking at the slowly fading gay bar, Her gallant sequins stained yellow From cigarette smoke and stale beer; The machine gun is a much overated weapon And nothing compared to a good queen In high heels.
-- Lisa Jain Thompson (July 2011)

Cold! If the thermometer had been an inch longer we'd all have frozen to death. - Mark Twain

the urban way
The View from Across the Street
A honk at the curb, Bloodstains on the steps, Police and EMTs, Sirens closing in: At least in the Wild West We were allowed to shoot back.
Lisa Jain Thompson (July 2011)

the changing mix
Cars
Isuzu, Dodge, Nissan, Toyota, Ford, Toyota, Toyota Toyota, Small cars and pick-up trucks, SUVs and working vans, A middle class melting pot Of automotive capitalism. We are endowed with certain rights And among these is the right To own a set of wheels, Maybe two, maybe three, Depending on our circumstance And those we provide our kids..
— Lisa Jain Thompson (July 2011)

Yes, the weather is bad, and if I were dealing in weather it is not the brand that I'd put up in cans for future use. No, it is the kind of weather I'd throw on the market and let it go for what it would fetch, and if it wouldn't sell for anything I would hunt up some life-long enemy and present it to him. Failing in this, as a last resort I should probably take it out on the big bridge, dump it into the Mississippi and start it to Europe via the jetties. I'd unload it someway, and that quickly, too. -- Mark Twain

we hold these truths to be self-evident
An American Contention
I will love whomever I want, I will marry the one that I love, People tell me god doesn't love me, I don't know but I think they're wrong. God didn't part us black and white, He didn't divide us cunt and dick, He didn't build no church bureaucrazy, God didn't make no bishopric. God don't care if I'm yellow or green, Red, blue, or sometimes in-between, He don't care if I'm a boy or a gril, If I love all of god's fine creatures. I don't believe I'm god's mistake, I'm just the way he wants me to be, He didn't write no complex theology, A living god wants us to be free. I'm exactly the woman that god created, Full of his grace and sour vinegar.
— Lisa Jain Thompson (July 2011)
www.starpoet.com
post Fourth we sweat our way to autumn
The Air Come Summer The air, If we can call it that, Is that strange Washington mixture Of pollen, dust and carbohydrates Suspended in a thick, swampy vapor That must be inhaled in chunks; At any given moment, The lungs may refuse and demand Large quantities of oxygen, properly chilled, And a quick shower to wash the summer gunk From your hair and flesh.
— Lisa Jain Thompson (July 2011)
"Averting Calamity" does not suffice as a governing strategy.


Copyright © Lisa Jain Thompson 1948-2011. Back issues are in the Newsletter Section of the StarPoet website. Visit my contact page and get in touch.