Fuse #8

Friday, June 01, 2007

Poetry Friday - The Collected Works of Susan Ramsey

I'm not dead to the irony of posting a poem like this in the Summer of my own years. What the hey, as they say. It's a sonnet, I think.

The Year Hits Perimenopause

Autumn has decided what the hell.

She knows the symptoms and already frost

has tarnished her. She's not a fool. She knows

however much she feels like May the snows

are coming, so before this chance is lost

she's going to wear red, show off her tits,

plump apples, bulge pumpkins. She is going to swell

each bunch of grapes to cleavage and shadowed musk.

Fuck decorum, honey, take a bite.

Take two. Each day is shorter than the last

and colder, so her unimpeachable night

is thick with glitter, rhinestones, sequins, glitz.

She thinks that maybe she'll even try her luck

and use her license for a few young bucks.

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At 9:50 AM , Blogger Sarah Miller said...

Good lord, that's funny!

I'm just a wippersnapper myself, but everywhere I've worked, I've found myself surrounded by women duking it out with menopause. They'll love this.

At 11:13 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wow. Just, wow.

At 9:21 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Utterly gorgeous, utterly true.

I am actually quite past menopause, in fact, when we go to Las Vegas this week we will be celebrating my 60th birthday. No, I cannot believe it either.

I have been loving your mom's poems, Fuse, but this one is my second favorite so far. The first favorite was the one about families and weddings.

She's very, very good.

At 11:30 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

My favorite line: Fuck decorum.

I so love your Mom's poetry. I feel like she talks my language.

Yeah, I know it might be a generational thing.

What the fuck.

yeah, I 'm well into the autumn and still feel/recall spring and summer like they were yesterday.

Just talked abut this last night with someone.

You'll see. Seasons will fly. Seasons fly especially when you have kids.

I don't/won't do sequins, though.

At 11:43 PM , Blogger fusenumber8 said...

For the record, she doesn't do sequins either. Never has. Never will. Raw silk yes, sequins no.

At 7:56 AM , Blogger Elaine Magliaro said...

I read this poem and couldn't help but think of the aging Hollywood stars who keep trying to look young and sexy by being tucked, liposuctioned, lifted, implanted, botoxed...and have had so many shots of collagen in their lips they look like they kissed a whole hive of bees.

I have no doubt that your mother must be one interesting woman...just like her daughter!

At 3:14 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

I am so there, although not ready to show off my tits.

Love the lines : Fuck decorum, honey, take a bite./Take two.

Please let your mom know I think she's made of awesome.

At 12:19 AM , Blogger mbpbooks said...

I'm so right there that this poem tempts me to flash a bit of leg and cleavage for the first time in my life ... maybe at ALA? Hey, if summery Fuse will be in that red dress, autumnal bloggers everywhere must respond to the challenge.


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