On Tuesday,

[mfwilkie]

I will buy a blue moon,
a plaster moon baked
with dust from the road,
a moon whose crusted eye
stares down the baker.

From another world entirely,
I will buy a canvas moon, bloated
to appealing—a moon who freezes
the eyes of a hairless Mexican cat,
a ceramic cat I will adopt on Wednesday,
the only cat I will ever ask my neighbor, Joanne,
to feed.

On Friday, I will walk my new cat to the beach,
a to-go margharita in hand, and in the afternoon
I will buy a glass hat to see us home, a fun hat
spun from the translucence of dragonfly wings.

[Marion Poirier]

Maggie, I like the dreamy, surreal quality in this poem.
Reminds me, in a way, of some of Anne Sexton's work-
the tone with an edge.

There's only one phrase that sounds out of whack-(for
lack of a better description.)

I will buy a canvas moon, bloated
to appealing—

I don't get bloated to appealing - other than that
I find this poem very appealing.

M

[Ken_Nye]

Geeze, Maggie, the images in here are wonderfui. I especially like the line "a ceramic cat I will adopt on Wednesday,
the only cat I will ever ask my neighbor, Joanne,
to feed." Clever lines.
(But this is one of those that I don't understand.((See my comments in "Ah, Sister Stone" for thte referent.)) But, you know, whenI compare your image pacxked, surrealistic poetry to my Baconian essays laid out in broken lines of prose, I think I can undeerstand why I don't, but it frustrates me that I don't.

Ken

[mfwilkie]

You know, Ken, I've learned
to not try and figure it all out at once.

Some times I go back and read two or three lines one day, maybe two more the next, and open myself to what those specific lines might mean all by themselves.

Then I go back and read the entire poem again.

A lot of times I'll have a ah-ha moment, but not always.

And when those not always happen, I just enjoy what I did understand.

I need to find my revision on this piece and post it for you to see.

I'd appreciate your thoughts.

Maggie