5 poems I saw

Trimming my bangs and reading Facebook literature

Happy post-Halloween season, although I’m sure half of you have mask, candy, and mischief-adjacent plans yet to come this weekend. Last night I played the drums in a Neil Young cover band with husband Jake, bestie Rae, and new friend Sean. Never had such fun playing the drums (a rare activity that usually finds me quite nervous). I tend to take the arts too seriously, so thanking the lord for grooving, gritty rock and roll.

And now, I’m sharing my monthly collection of five poems I saw recently. Not a written poem I read, but a thing in the world that is unintentionally so poetic I must hold it to my bosom in romantic reverie. If you’ve seen such a thing in your own corner of the world, I’d be delighted to hear about it.

1. V.C. Andrews’ writing

I didn’t know anything about V.C. Andrews until my friend Lillian paused at a shelf full of her gothic paperbacks in a Half-Priced Books. The cover designs were so dramatic we decided we should read one, so we each bought a copy of Heaven.

This was the most outrageous thing I have ever read. It’s nothing but shocking plot the entire time—no character development, no nuance, no resolution. Not to say I didn’t enjoy it, though. Heaven reminded me of reading a book by an imaginative fourth grader who had stayed home and watched a lot of soaps. Andrews writes lots of absurd and irrelevant descriptions that have no real connection character, tone, or plot, which makes them all the more poetic and memorable. Example:

“The buttocks under that flimsy cotton dress seemed twin wild animals fighting each other—I had to look away.”

2. Animated neon signs

Hypnotized by the promise of a flashing arrow, a growing star.

3. Hair clippings in a bathroom sink

I wiped the school scissors on my pants and looked down at pieces of dark brown hair that had fluttered to their fate in the sink basin.

Why do we trim our bangs when we’re in crisis?

4. POP

And there beneath it, quite literally, a Fanta-orange cart of two-liters catching light from the golden hour through their tops, shining like high-fructose gems in an undisturbed foreground of Clark Bars, playing cards, and Stayfree maxi pads.

5. Facebook flash fiction

Like the sunny version of “For sale: baby shoes, never worn,” this Facebook poem leaves the reader to imagine tiny feet learning to keep a beat. It is a delight to imagine a mother sourcing accessories for their child’s dance class. The shoes undoubtedly will be shiny, the costume sequined, the cheeks rosy. Tap tap, Miss Size 2, tap tap.