ROBERT J. STOUT : Puerto Nuevo, Mexico
MEAGAN CASS : Hand in Hand
GRACE CAVALIERI : Dates
POETRYREPAIRS v13.06:064
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Puerto Nuevo, Mexico Hand in Hand Dates


ROBERT J. STOUT
Puerto Nuevo, Mexico 
Both the waiter and the cook understood that one did as one was paid to do even though the only customers were a man and wife who ordered a la carte and didn't seem to care that the trees outside were dying and the sons and daughters of the cook and waiter had left for jobs in the States.
POETRYREPAIRS 13.06:064
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Puerto Nuevo, Mexico Hand in Hand Dates


MEAGAN CASS 
Hand in Hand 
It's a November night and the wind sends dry, fallen leaves flying around us as we walk down Market Street. We are talking about music and sucking on peppermints from the quiet Italian restaurant where we just shared grilled salmon and penne with a creamy vodka sauce. It has been a good night. On other nights you've come to me with your eyes wet and your composure in a heap on the floor with the day's clothes and said "I love you." You've opened up the cages inside you and let me touch the things that bite and snarl. You caught me hurling my pebbles into a crowd, at my mother's bedroom door, into myself. And still, you kissed each of my burning fingers. But my mother and father are in the backyard raking dead leaves in the cold. And it says, "Love" on those new thirty-two cent postage stamps. Soon orange juice cartons and boxes of kitty litter will wear our sacred understanding. We walk hand in hand. Part of me smiles and part of me insists upon wondering; Who is holding tighter? Am I doing all the holding? Is your palm sweaty, and do you secretly want to pull away and wave to someone in the distance?
POETRYREPAIRS 13.06: 064
Poetry endangers the established order  of the soul - Plato

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Puerto Nuevo, Mexico Hand in Hand Dates


GRACE CAVALIERI
Dates
The silver from my mother's mirror gleams its stories toward a light which drops and never breaks. It says to tell the truth and permanently shining, brings forth an original day bright as this one where children and other small creatures played without threat but the child's story is never without fear – is it – and seems to be made of remainders which either want for love or some relief from it. In the third grade the pyramids were presented to us by Miss O'Malley so kind that she would – in honor of learning – give us the key to Egypt if she could. Who would like to bring dates for all to taste? Who can do this on the lunch hour? She asked, Naturally I - who could not imagine how - said I would - and, like a child with enough money to spend, ran home with only one hour, one hour to ease my dear mother who probably had little money in the house, yet who bravely asked “Shouldn't you buy two packages for the class” I said No. Love and fear divided in my mind between an ocean of children and my mother's troubled face, “One package is all I need” I lied, “Someone else will bring the rest” (Children spend so much time persuading – no wonder no one believes them). Eight dates for twenty children which would taste so sweet - Miss O'Malley, always kind, cut the tiny squares and I kept interrupting, hoping they wouldn't notice. After all there wasn't water in the land of pyramids ... was there … and not too many trees probably hungry people and small rations there as well. That day every one of us was a reflection of the other- The children who ate their portions, the mother at home worrying about her daughter's gift the child thinking about her mother's face and Miss O'Malley who, kind and earnest, taught us all about a hardy people in an arid land who gave what they had and could give nothing more.
POETRYREPAIRS 13.06: 064
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ROBERT J. STOUT : Puerto Nuevo, Mexico
MEAGAN CASS : Hand in Hand
GRACE CAVALIERI : Dates

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