He was blessed
by the Holy Farmer—?
How random
and how rural
are our thoughts.
*
Rachel McAlpine
blogging101
Good day, bad day
It’s a good day:
you woke up!
You have pressures,
Problems, and people.
Hooray.
It’s a bad day
when your poem
turns to paisley
in olive and maroon.
It’s a bad day
when you have to
phone the plumber
on a Friday afternoon.
*
Rachel McAlpine
In praise of nostalgia
Nostalgia has a bad name.
Nasturtiums. Neuralgia.
Think backwards without blame:
we will never
be the same.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Keep dreaming
Inside your pineapple shell
you have dreams
of being happy,
being well.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Impossible thing
We believe every day
before breakfast that
we will not die
not yet, not now.
I know why
we perform
this impossible thing
—but not how.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Talk about bra straps
Farewell the safety-pins
of yesteryear.
Farewell the rebel cry of
‘Look ma, no bra!’
Since the revolt of
‘Ha ha, see my bra!’
a strap seen
is not obscene.
*
Rachel McAlpine
In April 1996
In April 1996
I stopped lusting
after men
and men
stopped lusting
after me.
What synergy.
What symmetry.
*
Rachel McAlpine
A bad boy
A bad boy
is not so bad.
A bad man
is not so good.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Youth is juice
Youth is juice
youth is couth
and jumble
and youth
is jig-a-jig-jig.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Oh lucky Max
‘Today was the worst day
in my whole entire life.
Five bad things happened.
- I forgot my lunch—again.
- I missed out on play lunch.
- Celia hit me with a hat.
- Then Celia hit me with some
nail polish in a glove. - At soccer people stooded
on my head.’
Oh lucky Max.
You’re six.
May you never have another day
as bad as this.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Poems in the wild—Rachel McAlpine 