Mama Needs a Brand-New Bag (a barlette*)
Reached deep in paisley purse
Pulled out six feet of handsome man
(Must’ve been Mary Poppins’ old bag)
Cleaned him up, schooled him on manners
Hoped he’d make good decisions
(Naïve, but her heart was in the right place)
Purse hung on door knob
They coupled and created new life
(It’s easy – leave The Pill on the shelf)
From the depths of her own inner purse
Emerged the most precious gift
(She’s still giving)
Man tired of being lugged around
Purse too heavy for both dad and baby
(Women have lots of baggage)
Baby grew too big for bag’s confines
Dad grew too big to carry
(Was he used to being the only child?)
Now purse is set aside in favor of
concentrating on contents, now a 5’9” woman
(How she once fit in that purse, I dunno)
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
* The barlette is my own form: Three-line stanzas; the final line is in parentheses and usually comments on the first two lines. Subject matter, rhyme or free verse, syllable count… none of that matters at all! It’s my nonconformist form. (“Barlette” is taken from my middle name, “Barlow.”)
For Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, where dedicated, prolific poet Mary Kling is taking a leave of absence after months and months of wonderful prompts. The new doyen of Mixed Bag Friday, the incomparable Kerry O’Connor, asked us to identify two items in our real, imagined, or psychic purses. Her use of an actual bag/purse put a fun twist on what is normally a free-for-all. Mary, thank you for your efforts; Kerry, welcome to the fray!
Also at my poetic luxuries shop, Poets United. Peace and beaded bags, Amy
YES, YOU CAN (vs. “I Got Mine, You’re Just Lazy”)
“We can’t afford health care for all.”
Give thought to this statement, really
feel the false sense for security and heed
the inherent greed of being American…
So you don’t get your MRI today.
If it’s not urgent, you can wait a week.
And speaking of tests, doctors overdo
that aspect, suspecting you might sue.
No one really needs a tummy tuck
as part of their health insurance.
How about a diet instead? Better saggy
than dead. Last longer, feel stronger.
My friend told me, in tears, that she
and her family of three have no doctor,
no clinic. Cynic that I am, I look to
Washington, awash in Cadillac plans
and think, “Let’s put their asses on Medicaid.
Let THEM go to the clinic, checking their
hair for lice, sitting among us Great Unwashed
waiting for their number to be called.”
Of all the reasons this season is prime time
for a sublime health care revolution, it’s the
evolution of the Tea Party, all soggy from
dunking once too often in a trough of crap.
I have had seven different types of insurance
in 55 years, my dears. Medicaid, Cadillac plan,
“from hunger” catastrophic, none at all…
Tell Congress they can’t drop the ball.
If corrupt morons on the Supreme Court
can tort their way through the insurance overhaul,
I think we can see our way clear to badgering
the Idol Rich Senate for Health Care for All.
And if you don’t want to give up what you have,
just remember – when they came to foreclose
on your neighbors over hospital bills and you
did not offer them hospitality, what does that say
about your values, your sense of responsibility?
You really want kids living in cars, the mentally ill
behind bars, because the fashion is to ration?
Search your heart… Commit to compassion.