Arsenic Lobster poetry journal |
Issue Thirty Winter 2012 |
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Lisa Is Not Pink Lisa McCool-Grime She is not heavy- lashed. She does not dance the Charleston or exclaim Tra la la! after her last sip of peppermint tea. Some think she is flat- chested or hard-wired but she is not. She is not moon-bound, not flirting with justice, not a sandy-footed stalker of sea sponge. Neither lizardlike nor stone- faced, Lisa hasn’t a clue about the ancient Greeks. She will not be turned into a laurel. She will not be seduced by a swan. Never a sunflower following the sun, never the cheese standing alone. She avoids sugar and salt and loving the flanklike muscle of a certain someone’s steadily chewing jaw. “Lisa,” you might then ask, “how did you come to be among these other things?” |
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