Translate

Showing posts with label liberals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label liberals. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 06, 2013

Drago, Book Promotion, a Poem about Waitressing and a Video of Gabriel Orgrease Reading "Lavender, a Liberal"




My brother Drago is a Catholic Buddhist. He has been lighting many candles in hopes of influencing the choice of new Pope. I hope this works and Drago has a say, because he knows what he's about, whether it's teaching yoga, explaining the basic concepts of Singularity to me or to someone with a chance in hell of understanding what he's talking about, or 16th century English literature--which brings me, in a clunky segue, to me.

As you may or may not know, I have written a collection of poems and it has been published by The Linnet’s Wings and is available on Amazon and through Create Space. For some reason, if you buy it on Amazon, I, the actual author, only get $1.47 out of the $16.00 price. If however, if you buy it from https://www.createspace.com I get $4.67. It is called One Day Tells its Tale to Another, and I’ve put my reviews, which are also on Amazon where the book has a 5 star rating, (but don’t buy it there!) on my website, http://www.nonnieaugustine.com. So, that’s about that. I do not like having to promote my book this way, but there you go. I’ve never been businesslike and I’m not just saying that to sound artistic. When I was four I decided I wanted to be a ballerina, and decisions like that one have kept on coming throughout my life--dancer, special ed teacher, obscure poet. I did pretend to be a secretary at one point, but I wasn’t very good at it, and I had only a vague idea about what my boss did. My secretary days were after I stopped dancing and before I started teaching. There were also a few stints at waitressing that taught me many things about myself and life that I hadn't learned in dance class and, happily for me, I got a poem out of them. It’s in my book. Oh, hell. I’ll post it here because you may not buy my book just to read my poem about waitressing.

THE FRIENDLY WAITRESS

On my two-top young lovers gaze at each other and share
her linguini, his prime rib. He butters her bread and she purrs. 
Three salesmen drink and eat and stare at my body. 
I try not to mind; they'll tip me 20%.

Our king, the Chef, rules his steamy realm 
with steely eyes, paces his rum. Before closing
he’ll be maudlin, desperate. The sous chef flirts, 
quips, chops and slices. We like him for his cheer. 
The old Greek grunts as we pick up his exquisite meringues,
tarts and layer cakes. Dishwashers talk trash in broken English--
not the paper-pale junkie. His silence is frantic.

I hoist my tray with six covered dishes. My back and feet
scream “Quit!” At my six-top a tired toddler's flung 
mashed potatoes at his sister, the floor, their table.
 If I clean up the mess now, I’ll fall behind; drinks wait
at the bar for the three-top, I need to take a dessert order
from the lovers, clear the four-top because the fucking 
busboy is hopeless. Two more years and I'll be a teacher.
Will I make it? Will I still be kind?


Lest you think this collection, which you may or may not be thinking about buying is full of swear words (it’s not--just a few) or dour, here’s a wonderful thing that a poet friend did to my great delight and surprise. He made a video of himself reading one of my poems. Gabriel grappled with a line or two and he kept that in his reading, but I love it all the more for that. (I am writing in a peculiar voice today. This is something that happens from time to time. It may be because I am embarrassed about promoting my book. Dunno.) Here’s the link to the video: 








  

Tuesday, September 11, 2012


Lavender, a Liberal

Betty, batty from hormones, in a fanciful fit,
named her daughter Lavender. Husband Don winced.
Brothers Donald, John, Billy, and Tom
were puzzled and pleased by this sister, this girl,
who was a little bit like them, yet not like them at all.

Each night and most afternoons Betty told Lavender
stories, sang her songs, opened books full of pictures
where stout hearts bamboozled evildoers that lurked,
and rags became ball gowns glowing with pink.
Poor maids, Auroras, Swan Queens and their ilk
with true lovers, often princes, used cunning and tricks
to free castles from brambles, lift spells, smote the slick.

As happens, Lavender grew grown, moved on and away
from her mother's fine songs to live songs of her own.
She searched for a prince, found several at least,
vanquished evils and weasels, fiercely scolded some trolls,
got caught in the muck, found her footing, soldiered through.
No castles came calling; never mind she made homes.

With mostly good luck, Lavender aged right up to old.
Though her body got cranky,
she kept close to her heart
certain fluttery trills
Arthur Rackham
and persistent whisps,
of fast stallions,
wize wizards,
dances,
feasts,
and folk
loving out loud--
as dead dragons smoldered
in heaps on their hills.