Fuse #8

Friday, May 25, 2007

Poetry Friday: The Collected Works of Susan Ramsey

This one's going out to the ladies and lad-inclined boys out there. It's a sonnet, hitherto unpublished with an honest-to-god kidlit reference smuggled in there.

Crone's Delight

Down at the shop we call them Junior Mints.

Just a tongue-tip of sugar and eyelashes,

chocolate and cheeks and mint and muscled forearms,

broad shoulders tapering down to the hollowed

small of their backs under baggy t-shirts.

They're Junior Mints because you wouldn't want

to make a meal of them, have to hear them talk.

There's no nutrition there, no tendon, fiber

into which to sink long, yellow teeth

and hold on, bucking--

just a smear of sweetness

to idly smash against the roof of your mouth

We stare at them from under level brows

or with one eyebrow cocked ironically

all we want. We are invisible

to them, their mother's or grandmother's age.

We look them over. We are not their mothers.

You could eat a whole boxful, thinking of something else,

and never even notice what you were doing,

until you shook its hollowness, surprised.

Hansel had a delectable lower lip.

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At 7:26 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Saucy indeed. Yet another good poem from Ms. Ramsey.

Are you not a little freaked, though? It's about lust, and it's by your MOM... Maybe I've got issues, but I don't know how I'd feel if my mom started talking about gobbling up young hotties like Junior Mints. Even typing it made me twitch a little there.

At 11:16 AM , Blogger fusenumber8 said...

Oh, no doubt. My sister and dad both found it a bit disturbing. I prefer to look at it as a poem written by a person. The fact that that person happens to be my mom is mighty weird, but I think I'll best keep my sanity if I just forget that minor detail.

At 12:36 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hmmmm. I'm pretty much a lady-inclined lady and I still thought this was hot. After all, it's no so much about the Junior Mints themselves, but about She Who Wants Them. I like She. But in a totally I'm-married-in-Massachusetts-and-not-after-your-straight-saucy-mom sorta way.

At 7:54 AM , Blogger Kate said...

What a fantastic poem! I think it captures aging so well--still an appreciation for beauty but with the wisdom of perception, to define the depth of the beauty.

At 10:06 AM , Blogger rams said...

I don't suppose it's comforting to know this isn't the one your father and sister found uncomfortable?

At 9:50 AM , Blogger fusenumber8 said...

It wasn't? Color me completely confused. Was it the other one you sent me? Shoot. I haven't read it yet. Hm.....


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