poetryrepairs 16. 08:094

NORDETTE N ADAMS :Sex is Just another Word for Someone to Talk To
NORDETTE N ADAMS :They Told Me a President Died

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NORDETTE N ADAMS
Gossip on Lost River Bed

The November after you left sucked my river dry, silenced tributaries chanting your name. I stumbled blank-faced for months. May sun stretched its arms, warming mute pebbles, exsiccating further the muddy bed. How is a breakup like a death? Curious men walk the remnant now, a bare rock path with ghosts of our carnage. They gawk at blood spatter on once-river banks, on barren tree limbs. They hang their heads. I hear them philosophize. O’ tearless. O’ tearless. She is drained. She is drained. Passion is a withered plum.

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NORDETTE N ADAMS
They Told Me a President Died 

Do we mourn enough when presidents die well-aged, their souls, escaping early tombs? They did not succumb to illnesses that cull sobs from the nation’s masses. They’ve gone by natural balance. We probably speculate, alone: Did they fall into eternal sleep,or rise up, heaven bound to harps, or slip to hellish catacombs for hellish deeds? Was that really, really a great one? We love (and hate) as simpletons, “Speak no ill of the dead,” toss roses onto coffins and give greater charity to dust than feeble, breath-filled clay. Only History tells an honest tale once mourning’s given way to living on.

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NORSWTTW N. ADAMS lives in New Orleans, Louisiana. Her poetry has appeared in About Place Journal, Quaint Magazine, Adagio Verse Quarterly, and Poetry Life and Times as well as other publications. One of her poems about the deaths of black Americans in police custody was recently accepted for publication in Rattle Magazine’s Poets Respond series. During the summer 2015, she spent a month studying in Italy at the Ezra Pound Center for Literature at Brunnenburg Castle, getting her first taste of Europe. She received an MFA from the University of New Orleans in May 2016.


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