Persephone Abbott

Posts tagged “Poem

We’ve been missing you

Posted on September 4, 2023

We’ve been missing you The pews weren’t even half full – “My mother,” HR said to me her youthful words dancing forth from between her painted lips, “Finally saw the light.” I had been on the job one week and listened carefully about a series of step-fathers next to the office aquarium HR again, this time about an interviewee “It’s not that she is too old,” she explained as we stood in front of the dishwasher also seriously in need of an update It reminded me – the congregation trying their hardest to sing the tune, mouths stumbling across the words in the hymn book Here I am Lord My new boss strolled casually behind my chair “We’ve been missing you,” she murmured low…

Cobalt, a poem by Persephone Abbott

Posted on July 24, 2023

Cobalt Twenty kilometers south They closed the factory In 1898 Cobalt I knew it was the farm As soon as I saw it On my left Even though the place didn’t Look like the photographs From 1904 A switch flipped in my mind I turned into the driveway On automatic pilot Cobalt I don’t suppose my great-uncle Would have ever worked In the cobalt factory or the saw mill or the grain mill Even if the mines and the factories hadn’t closed Even if he, at age fifteen, Hadn’t left for america Along with a lot of other Local teenagers holding Tickets to board the Celtic. He wasn’t the type to work in a mine. Yet I still can’t find what he did For…

Castor & Pollux

Posted on March 10, 2023

I went to a masterclass the woman said loudly. Do you know that the singers – beautiful voices – didn’t have a clue what they were singing about? The stranger across the table from me frowned in irritation the pages for the synopsis for Act Two of Rameau’s Castor et Pollux open in his hand. The woman repeated what she had already said a little differently this tme but with the same emphasis. Her friends muted friends listened on, holding their drinks and unsure how to change the topic. I stirred sugar into my Concertgebouw cappuccino, a cup small enough to finish in time for the second bell. It’s hard to understand the words the woman said loudly. Just think if a French singer…

Summer Poems

Posted on August 8, 2022

Wee a.m. the cat sitting on my right hip bone kneading my side heavy voice outside drunk, in a language I can’t make out woman-shriek pierces the night dull thumping shirt on shirt half asleep I egg on the fight atta, go at ‘em go my organs under the cat’s administration I hear scuffling Jog my memories: Eight Stops on the Train from Amsterdam Amstel to Gouda = My first year in Holland: I was told that I’d save money if I got off at Amstel and took the metro to the opera house and I can still remember the round face and blues eyes of the person giving me that advice in the Utrecht Conservatory canteen in between sips of bad coffee. —-…

Two Today

Posted on May 13, 2022

Poems in the Car

I imagine you waiting
in a parking lot for something to happen
for the signal to go, go, go and
you reach down for your phone
mentally spin out off the road 
read a poem by Simon

I imagine your blond head bent
in concentration, trying to find 
something to report as you anticipate
a familiar occurrence appearing 
above the horizon of your dashboard
meanwhile Simon’s slow words, 
searching fingers tips, enter your sightline
and explain to you it already happened
sometime ago and you are free

Bartender,

Give me a bottom I want to say
a motherfucking smack the fanny
nectar bleeding pimpled dumpling
doughy dog-haired bruised apple
gooey cheesy pink crackly frosty
yes, the best one on the menu
what I am yakking about here and
hey the futurette is not looking too good, 
in a glass.

Leaving the USA Sept 2021

Posted on October 24, 2021

The pedestrian lobbed A thick gob of spit at the taxiWe were on 3rd, up a bit, almost at 34th“Fucking dickhead,” the walker yelledThe taxi driver didn’t flinchTwenty six years drivingA cab around New York City,His career move from Russia,Some guy in a tee-shirt screamingProfanities at him in the middle Of the street just as he was Heading towards JFK About to get some country air….so….AnywayBehind the wheel the Russian perked upSeeing that cute white Nissan sportscarEven accelerated a bit, switching lanesTo follow a little closer maybeAlready forgetting about the traffic ticketHe got on Hudson after I climbed inTardy seat belt maneuver and the copsWatching, nodding at me “Ma’am” As they approached the taxi Pulled over on top of a bunch of white lines,Pretty…