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Nina Corwin Page 3
Deconstructing Dorothy
In the dream about her parents,
they’re always Kodachrome
and anywhere but Kansas. Her aunt says
they’re on the other side
of the rainbow. The truth is
less romantic (those damn shades
of gray). They could see
which way the birds were flying.
Who says there is no place like home?
She climbs on her tandem
and starts to pedal. Toto too.
Pedal to the metal, he barks
from the side of his kisser.
Dorothy’s broomstick braids slap him
in the mug. Quit your yapping
and give me a munchkin for lunch.
In the warp of the wind,
it comes out sounding like
let them eat cake,
I’ll have what’s behind the
curtain
Toto’s tugging.
She wipes her mouth.
Gone the fiery godhead. Poof
of hot air. Nothing left
but dials and joysticks,
a wayward balloon. In the pantheon
of witches and saviors,
everything comes down
to feathers and straw. And feathers
don’t go far without wings.
Bucket of water, pull the plug.
Nominated by Slipstream<http://www.slipstreampress.org/>
in 2008 for a Pushcart Prize.
Natural Selection
In a carved-up corner of the Amazon, an
old gardener keeps her
cabbages and cucumbers apart. Shaking
her head, she explains,
they will kill each other if given the
chance.
A panel of scientists votes to strip
Pluto of planetary status.
The grumbling opposition asks: how round
is round?
In second grade, my best friend makes me
clean her room. Boasting
friends in nether places, she threatens
to hex me: a maggot meta-
morphosis if I refuse.
Pretty soon, belief becomes suspension
bridge.
Not long after, I take Underdog, with
his little white U and blue
cartoon cape, to be my psychic savior.
In private, I stick pins in Polly
Purebred’s voodoo likeness.
Teeth bared, a pair of dogs grapples for
the single bone between
them. The victor marks the hydrant of
his choice.
Bullies of every stripe and paw print
swagger through the eco-
system. The sniveling little guy bellies
up.
I, too, have my hungers. The
hunter-gatherer in me. The need to
name on the table of my tongue. The need
need need.
Implanted at the base of my brain, my
survivalist microchip is ticking.
Schools of turbines crop up across the
plains to press the wind
into service. Involuntary conscription
has already begun.
-- first appeared in Parthenon West
Review
<http://www.parthenonwestreview.com/>,
Issue 7 2009-2010.
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--"Irregulars," "On Listening to the
Brahms Violin Sonata #1," "But
Silently," and "Deconstructing Dorothy" by Nina Corwin
are from The Uncertainty of Maps
(C) 2011 CW Books, Cincinnati,Ohio. |