Two Poems

by Lynne Thompson

Telling

Maybe
he never knew—

maybe he fucked you
like you were a planet

who made his life turn
uncommon for a while—

Did you go back to him
more than once or maybe

he never knew you
again? Perhaps

there were paper kites
and some laughter but

what did that have to do
with either of you?

Maybe he was impeccable
or a lapsed Catholic given

to mesmerism and cocaine.
Maybe he forgot to bring you

camellias. But why, mamma,
didn't you tell him about me?

 

Womb Song

Here I am, mom—all motive and
gristle and moaning for a daddy
but that bell just won't ring. What

a playpen you are: isle of Langerhans,
echo of Charlie Parker, miasma of
hominy, merliton and fried fat-back.

But no call to worry, maker of mysteries—
you took a gamble and the thorn of it is,
neither of us will ever know how much.


Lynne Thompson was born and raised in Los Angeles, California. A two-time Pushcart Prize nominee, her poetry has been or will be published in Margie, Poetry International, Indiana Review, Rattle and Crab Orchard Review. Her book of poems, Beg No Pardon, won the 2007 Perugia Press Award and 2008 Great Lakes Colleges Association New Writers Award. She is the Director of Employee & Labor Relations at UCLA.

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