Sunday, November 19, 2006

Sunday afternoon

In light of my afternoon loveliness I give you a poem that I like.

Better Than Sex
Keddy Ann Outlaw

The nurse-teacher-artist
drives home at noon.
She takes off
her stockings
and lies on the sofa
in a meditative nirvana
her mother called a nap.

If you asked her just then
she would tell you
such silence
is better
than sex.

Better than
the better-than-sex cake
someone always makes
for holiday parties,
the one with whipped cream,
pudding, cherries, sponge cake
and gooey chocolate.

Afterwards, she
wonders - can anyone
identify the pillow crease
on her face, that scar
of a lunchtime assignation
with loose and lovely self.

I'm not saying mine was good enough for poetry but it certainly was a pleasant treat.


Blogger Heather said...

I'm totally jealous. I didn't get a nap.

9:41 AM  
Blogger schoolboy said...

or sex... :)

11:13 PM  

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