Wednesday, May 2, 2012

new poem by brigade member A. Nora Claypoole

This poem is from the new poetry collection  
embroidered maps, de los muertos
by a. nora claypoole

a wave was in her*
by a. nora claypoole

for Louise Bryant  and her daughter Anne Moen Bullitt

swept away. a diva by her dad
under the aged bristles of gossip
their was no talk of a mother
there was no talk of her art
there was a quote in the daily news
about father is and god and freud applauded.

forgotten.  the preface
mother is my friend.
mother is a balloon
mother has bird’s nests in her belly
buttoned silent.  buttoned to rittenhouse square
her legacy of banishment was having a daughter
and loving a woman.  the paradox perplexes
the paradox exists
the paradox resists
the mother was a balloon
the mother was owned
by a man, with stolen rings
the mother wrote. her chimes
as  requiem to masses
bolshevik revivals an elixir to his kiss
collected countries in the hem of her dress
a poem was written. 

go to hell

he asked for an epitaph and she laughed
a wave was in her then
it drowned the sins she hoped her daughter
would rename
her daughter
had her name and died inside her
god. as a friend to none
of the little sisters
 of saint veronica
of the assumption
was, she never loved
little sisters,  of mercy
shaved, veiled, chaste
thank her with a statue
 found broken in a box

out west. her first paper.
 writing  about the klamath
modoc indians.  captain jack
her ikon.  hung by whites,
 scalped.  by her own people.
a wave was in her.

not even fathers of the chiefs could save her
legacy is a refrain erased from music sheets
still shuffled on a piano sent East all the way from oregon.

today there is music in the village

* from “My Epitaph” by Louise Bryant 

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