Hell-sprung old broads from Corntown carrying plastic bags full of marzipan Easter eggs,
leading Pomeranians and Shelties and
wearing white lambswool/angora-blend sweaters.
Worth your life to crack a dirty joke at the church picnic,
cast aspersions on the pickle-relish potato salad, or
advocate cornbread over white-bread stuffing for the sacrificial fowl.
How my mother-in-law’s family survived it—
Jewish intellectuals, a real estate trader and a concert musician,
refugees from a burning Europe landing in Middle America as if Oscaloosa were Roswell.
They hid things
like any blue-haired grandma hiding Easter eggs for the kids. Except
what they hid
they never meant for us to find.
--word salad
Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Palm Sunday in Oscaloosa
Labels:
free verse,
poetry,
wordpower
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