otherworlds

I
can we have ghost flowers in our haunted house? the ones my mommy gave me on every birthday--pink peonies
not to mention my mommy herself in a peony pink dress golden beads in her teeth reading poetry
to my father while he paints her holding the phantom flowers
and vincent van go go ghost my springer spaniel with the long eyelashes
tigger and fluffy and coco and teddy and thumper and even goldy and sylvia the gold fish and nostril the beta
floating upside down in the bowl (glass not toilet)
belly up but smiling
i'll wait for everyone i love to join us at their leisure
to watch movies and "eat" our favorite snacks have endless slumber parties
dance together in the garden neath the moon
say i love you all the time
but without the fear that it will be the last

II
i thought europe was immune
like a place in my imaginings

i'm still fourteen there
with lips full as that video girl
walking the streets with my parents
nearly fainting at the Botticelli behind the wall
eating slices of watermelon by pink watermelon palaces
tiny glass animals twinkling on my windowsill

the place I could always escape to if I had to
if it got too bad here

but after all these disasters...
maybe there's a city under water
like Italy but better
a carefully planned grid
with large marble statues of dryads and sea gods
streets paved with broken shells
coral pink castles with abalone floors

i'll be the fluorescent fish in baby blue
with a pretty fin
when you take me in

III.

if we aren't ghosts or fish under the sea
can we be stuffed bears in my doll house
with a four poster bed, a wardrobe with tiny hat boxes on top
a china tea set with blue roses
a wooden bucket and washboard to clean our little clothes
a black wrought iron stove with fish painted on the pans
ceramic cakes on lace doilies
birthday candles in red iron candlesticks
real glasses with gold flowers
tiny china dogs in the mantelpiece
a nursery for our baby bear and his little wooden rocking horse
and eye glasses with lenses made of clear nail polish
little jaunty berets and felt rick rack vests but no need for pants
we can pen our stories at the roll top desk and give them to birds to take into the world for us
we won't need any money to fill our teddy bear tummies or pay the rent
the bank won't come knocking on the door
nor any angry men trying to push their way inside since we won't own tvs or computers or anything with the letter i in front ofit
or any jewels
except a few dried flowers and the smallest sea shells someone once brought to fill our garden

IV.
wanna go with me to outer space? check out some other place without global warming?
just think what it would like to see the world from there
you've got to think, how could earth have been made
with all its oceans and deserts and mountains and cities
with all its trees and flowers and meadows and valleys
with its insects and birds and reptiles and mammals
with all its wild mix of people
why are they fighting? why are they hurting each other? why are they destroying this perfect round thing spinning in space?
their perfect round thing
why aren't they sharing? why aren't they caring for it and for each other
it makes less sense than the existence of life
on other planets

Comments

  • francescalia Tuesday, 22 November 2011

    for you, g. thanks for the inspiration

    for you, g. thanks for the inspiration

  • giovanniarduino Tuesday, 22 November 2011

    xoxoxo :) :*

    xoxoxo :) :*

  • Anonymous Sunday, 20 November 2011

    thank you, francesca. such a thing of beauty. i re...

    thank you, francesca. such a thing of beauty. i really relate to this desire to go elsewhere. the first part, with the people (and animals) who you have loved who have passed away really moved me. great to see you posting new poems here again. i wish you all the best.Lucy

  • Teddi Wednesday, 16 November 2011

    touche'. glad you're back.

    touche'. glad you're back.

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