VERNON WARING : "password"
MICHAEL LADANYI : Gypsies And Cabbage
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POETRYREPAIRS v12.06:061
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VERNON WARING
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mom was on "password" once i saw a rerun of the program the other day on the game show channel peter lawford kept feeding her bad clues he looked at her condescendingly but i suspect she was too entranced by his bushy eyebrows and sexy smile to even notice i didn't really like his smirk when she kept guessing wrong and then when his clue was "passion" she giggled he winced i laughed out loud sitting there in my disheveled living room rain pounding on the awning the dog asleep on my lap magazines piled high at my feet my mother's laughter lighting the room like a lovely luminous ghost
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MICHAEL LADANYI
Gypsies And Cabbage
Always there was talk of death and sickness when I'd pass by the yellow kitchen as a child, heading down the long hall toward the bathroom or the side door that led onto the driveway. Sometimes, I would linger outside the large archway, listening to my grandmother, mother, several aunts and neighborhood women, while enveloped by heavy aromas of Hungarian kielbasa and cabbage, potato soups with enough paprika and garlic to roast the mouth, thick meat pies and boiling puddings, straining to grasp a word or two, as they drifted into the hall in thick, hushed tones, that stuck, then dripped, from the walls of that solemn room like ancient languages lost in shoddy translations, or perhaps, they had died with the last of their kind. They spoke like gypsies, in fact, I believed then that a few were, their words accented with short nods and waving fingers. My stomach would growl, sparking strange emotions that now remind me of hunger and wanton sex combined. It never failed, I would lean too far, and quickly find myself floating in seas of, "Isn't he so handsome!" and, "What a smart boy!" The room would transform, like a cunning doppelganger, becoming a bright place of smiles and laughter, though, I never forgot the different worlds of that room, and now, usually find myself most comfortable, between those scented memories.
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Poetry endangers the established order  of the soul - Plato





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POETRYREPAIRS 12.06: 061
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VERNON WARING : "password"
MICHAEL LADANYI : Gypsies And Cabbage
061POETQ3 : ALLPOSTERS

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