ABOUT

CONTENTS

EDITORIAL

ARCHIVE

LAGNIAPPE

MAST

SUBMISSIONS

 
TWO POEMS
by Susan Maurer


Outlook, Odell Point

The Odell I knew
Was an Indian
You'd have to be American
To understand that
I am a white person
Part Indian, but
Not enough for the tribal registry
(And we all tried so hard
To pretend she was French
We don't know what tribe)
Odell hated me slash-and-burn
Nothing personal

At Mohonk I gave from the gazebo
From horses barely visible I hear snorting
So far below that animals from a
Child's toy farm loom large

Dancing Partners

I sold my first poem to "American Voice"
Which gives me an A+ in life.
I want to send all you guys a postcard.
You were taller than I am,
So you looked over my head.
This takes your foot off my neck,
In writing smart guys,
Though you're still older than I,
Richer than I an would still take my arm decisively,
Signaling with your firm hand on my back
When the music began.