Five Poems

by Maria Fischer



Just the Antique of a Birth Swallowing Open my Sternum

 

Mai Der Vang wrote

An “Ars Poetica”

That is not the original

“Ars Poetica” by Horace

Or the “Ars Poetica”

By Archibald MacLeish

I teach my high school juniors,

But an “Ars Poetica”

That features the WXRT

Cool of the line,

“I am surrendering

to the pinky of my childhood

As it misfires

Out of a sycamore

From the eighties”

And that’s my “Ars Poetica,”

Baby: 80s, bitchin’,

INXS concerts

And the original Beetlejuice,

Killer, righteous, punk,

Full of possibilities

And back to the future,

Young, free, totally.

“Ars Poetica” literally

Means “the art of poetry”

And my art is currently

Exhausted and old.

I am reminded to

Surrender to the pinky promise

Of my childhood.

I told myself I’d grow up

And be cool.

It’s ars poetica, aging.

And it’s ok.

It’s “just the antique of a birth

swallowing open my sternum.”




The Whiteness of a Mother’s Love

 

Joy Ladin writes in “Political Poem,”

 

“I remember the whiteness of my mother’s love,

The coupon-clipping whiteness,”

 

And I, too, remember the

“Lower-middle-class love” of a mother

 

Broken and depressed

And suburban and dressed

 

In the polyester of the 70s housewife

With a husband at the bar.

 

Ladin writes of her mother’s “childhood Depression”

With a capital D, the history, the Grapes of Wrath

 

Of it all, while my mother spread lowercase “d”

Depression on me like Parkay Margarine

 

On Wonder Bread. “No one could look

At the motions we went through”

 

And see anything other than a mother’s love.

Neglect and blame were our CandyLand,

 

Bad credit our Chutes and Ladders.

And none of it matters, ultimately,

 

Really. The personal is political,

And we were privileged, after all:

 

The crestfallen former bride and the child

Who failed to be an ally.

 

We had a home. We had a car.

“Eyes disguised as carpet stains”

 

And a rapidly filling resentment reservoir.




You, Too

 

Each one

Teach one

In poetry, too;

Not only

The slaves and

The Sioux.

You

Must learn

To read the coup,

To write the

Breakthrough,

To do the

Living

Only you

Can do.




The Weight of a Tambourine Falls Somewhere in Between

 

“The average woman’s purse weights approximately one kilo. The average woman’s heart weighs nine ounces. The weight of a tambourine falls somewhere in between, a little closer to the heart than the handbag.” – Tom Robbins, Skinny Legs and All

 

I don’t carry a purse.

Years ago I carried my driver’s license

And insurance card in the cup holder

Of my car.

I’ve aged, of course, and

Now often need a handbag,

But I feel I’ve kept that freedom.

 

I get burned out, of course, but

My teacher’s heart weighs

Far more than nine ounces.

Nate wrote about his anxiety

In a writing prompt before

The assigned poem.

I answered with a positive note home

And a list of book recommendations.

He raises his hand more now.

He said, “Thanks for the note.”

It’s not much.

Nine ounces.

But it matters more

Than my nineteen years

In customer service.

 

Now, the weight of a tambourine

Is a totally different thing.

I have anxiety too, of course,

And question this world.

I don’t have skinny legs.

I could pay off those student loans

If I just went back to the old job.

But my pocketbook

Wouldn’t rattle with the percussion

Of value.




Skyscrapers

 

Because all the best

Stories are written about loss,

Our loyal lovers get left

Behind. Their doing the dishes

Is abandoned in favor

Of Alejandro Zambra’s

“Skyscrapers,” in which he writes,

“But I had no idea

That those years would be fun,

Intense, and bitter,

And would be followed by

A much longer, perhaps indefinite period

During which we knew nothing of each other.”

 

Our loyal lovers,

In contrast,

In direct deposit to the checking account

And kind note which credit card to use,

Get abused.

They are not “utterly unerasable.”

They are traceable

In the water bill paid,

The bed made,

Capable and inescapable and lovely,

Really,

But not the unshakable fiction we create.



BIO: Maria Fischer has no social media. But don't be fooled. She'll stalk the dickens out of you. Her work has been published in the Wingless Dreamer anthology and by Bellowing Ark Press. She can be reached at mfischer@jj.edu.

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