Reclaiming Conversation

For maybe a hundred thousand years or more, grownups have been waving tangles of string in their children’s faces… no wonder kids grow up crazy.
Kurt Vonnegut

Your stories circle her question
before you answer it.
Lean in. Over the café table,
make a cat’s cradle of your life.
With your eyes, ask to pass it.
See if she can fit her fingers
into crisscrossed plots
of who you were before —
Carefully Reasoned Infidelities,
Halted Hungry Ghost Trajectories,
Genuine Anti-Heroine Epiphanies—
and in the passing, make candles,
diamonds of the yarn. She too leans.
Your lover/mother/poet motives
written, stricken, timidly revised,
you hope the tangled page does not
rewrite the you she likes.

with thanks to Barbara

2 Responses to “Reclaiming Conversation”

  1. Barbara Ford says:

    Guess who just decided it was time to read this poem … just this morning, and other recent mornings, I have been peripherally pondering the stories embedded in our cells, the stories we carry, the stories we sometimes want to erase, or defuse, or tell riddled with omissions. And I say — who else but poets dare to bare both selectively and brazenly? I want to lean across the cafe table with you, Rachel, again and again. And guess who is starting up a monthly poetry reading & open mic segment in Salida at Cafe Dawn? Yes, it’s me. You will be a featured poet one of these months, when it is a joy and not another harried hurried trip to make. Maybe you will be living here.
    and so it goes, with great homage to Kurt, Barbara

  2. wordweed says:

    Thanks for the read! I spent the better part of the day preparing and submitting chapbooks in that sort of exhilarating anxiety that goes along with the task, so to hear from you in the midst of it was heartening.

    Thrilled to hear about your plans for a monthly open mic! I’m pretty sure it will be a joy no matter what, even harried and hurried, or better yet, local, to be there with you and the Salida poetry crew.

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