A Happy Homemaker

[Timothy Juhl]

The chill of frozen foods is a ghost on her
bare arms. Arms, bare and white, in
a sleeveless shift, she shifts quietly, drawing the
fabric tight over her breasts. Resting tired, she
leans lonely against her cart among shelves
of jams and jellies, and jars of creamy
peanut butter, a mountain of bread loaves.
Somewhere between need and boredom,
between the butter and eggs, a purling
voice reminds her turnips are four for a dollar.
Standing over a bin of far too ripe
pears, she smells a syrupy smell, like a young woman
in August, and she believes it is honey
warming between her thighs. Behind the
shopping cart, hidden more by her open purse
with carefully cut coupons fanned out,
she touches herself, touches eggplant swollen and purple.

[mfwilkie]

Hi Tim,

On a first read, I really like this.

First thing I noticed is that she seems eveywhere at once
without moving.

Needs some tightening and maybe a few language adjustments
to clarify a few of the images.

I have a few suggestions but let me mull them over for a bit and get back to you in the morning.

I really like:

Somewhere between need and boredom,
between the butter and eggs, a purling
voice reminds her turnips are four for a dollar.

and this, in spite of eggplant and purple used together.

Behind the shopping cart, hidden more by her open
purse with carefully cut coupons fanned out, she touches
herself, touches eggplant swollen and purple.

Here's a heads up on the reading: 8pm on the 6th of February
at Gene's house. Address and directions will follow via e-mail.
Bring a couple of poems to read.

See you here in the am.

Maggie

[brianedwards]

Hi Timothy,

Really enjoyed this, especially the killer last line.
I did feel pulled around quite a bit, like, what aisle is she in now? And the first 4 line breaks bumped me a bit, breaking on 2 pronouns, a prep, an art, just wondered what the thinking was there. Not a big bump, but I can't think of a rationale, cant really hear one either, so they seem a bit arbitrary.

OK Brian, shut up. Great poem. Nice to meet you, your work.

B.

[Sherry Thrasher]

I am at work and will be back. I read this late last night but sat through 5 classes yesterday and was officially brain dead at the time. I do like this one. Can you meet for a workshop on Sunday?

[mfwilkie]

Tim,

I played with this to show her moving through the store.
I think you'll see how she wasn't moving before and where
the images in your draft were a bit unclear.

What's funny is how it worked itself into a sonnet as I was editing it; something you might want to consider when you revise.


Somewhere between need and boredom,
between butter and eggs, a purling voice
reminds her turnips are four for a dollar.
With the chill from frozen foods still a ghost
on her arms, she draws the fabric of a loose
shift tightly over her breasts and pushes on
with loneliness and her cart past shelves of
jams, of jellies, jars of creamy peanut butter,
past a mountain of fresh bread. She rests tired
near a bin holding the fragrance of too ripe pears
and feels again that young woman of August,
honey runnng warm between her thighs.

Behind the cart, behind her purse and its fan of coupons,
she leans into herself, touching purple, touching swollen.

Mags

[wavemaker9 (Rick D.)]

she leans into herself, touching purple, touching swollen squash
and without a carrot in the world, she lettuce watch
as we hid behind the rippening promise of an avocado dip.

..the rest of my workday is wasted, sorry.

Welcome Timothy!
Rick

[mfwilkie]

Oh, my God, Rick, you just cracked me up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mags

[Timothy Juhl]

Thanks all for the welcome and the comments...and Rick, I especially enjoyed the added lines, considering this poem was inspired by a grocery list I once found and amid all the typical items one finds on such lists was 'vibrator' and that set forth the image of a disenchanted woman, wandering the aisles rather listlessly (no pun intended).

My apologies, Brian, but I have a freakish thing with enjambed lines like these and in this case, I wanted the poem to feel a bit wandering, this is a woman whose thoughts are somewhere other than the grocery aisle.

[wavemaker9 (Rick D.)]

Listlessly...lol! You'll fit in well here. Thanks for tolerating a silly Friday wanna be home attitude.

Mags, we gotta break 'em in to the site right, right?

R

[Sherry Thrasher]

I've read his other work. You're in for a treat.

[Jo Lynn Ehnes]

Way to run with that, Rick. You're something else dear, but would appear you two will get along just fine. Maggie has given some great food for thought (we are in a grocery store after all) so I'll just say I enjoyed the read.

[Sherry Thrasher]

Was she shopping at the Harris Teeter?

I do like Maggie's ideas. The double use of shift stumbles me a bit and so does the turnip talk of four for. I'd also simply call it Homemaker.

See you Sunday. Arrive at Caribou a little early if you'd like.

[alfredo]

It took Timothy’s explanation for me to fully enjoy this…. (especially the accidental inspiration - the shopping list!) ..which I did. So don’t stop explainin’ if only for the “antipodean” dummies down here at the world’s bottom.


BTW isn’t all inspiration accidental?

[LynnDoiron]

Tim -- an amazing write!

The chill of frozen foods is a ghost on her
bare arms. Arms, bare and white, in
a sleeveless shift, she shifts quietly, drawing the
fabric tight over her breasts. Resting tired, she
leans lonely against her cart among shelves
of jams and jellies, and jars of creamy
peanut butter, a mountain of bread loaves.
Somewhere between need and boredom,
between the butter and eggs, a purling
voice reminds her turnips are four for a dollar.
Standing over a bin of far too ripe
pears, she smells a syrupy smell, like a young woman
in August, and she believes it is honey
warming between her thighs. Behind the
shopping cart, hidden more by her open purse
with carefully cut coupons fanned out,
she touches herself, touches eggplant swollen and purple.

Here's my quibble: Let the reader come to their own moment of what she touches by omitting "herself" and just going with "she touches eggplant, swollen and purple."

Again, a-maze-ing.

lynn

[Timothy Juhl]

OMG! Lynn, that's perfect...I just reread it with that subtle change and it utterly turns the poem on its end. I stand in awe.

Tim