Buzzcock Menopause

Dedicated to all womenfolk who have ever had hotflashes in public places.
I had one at a Buzzcock concert . . . which is some level of irony.

Buzzcock Menopause

you realize you’re staring
over a sea of leather twang
hipsters you reach out to
catch the echo of a phrase
inside your head:
youth is wasted on the young

you can only say this
because you are not young

or hipped     tight     the tears
fall like fancy fragments

nothing
is wrong
everything is wrong
insisting
it flows
from your eyes

your husband nods his head and lips
the tune played by a man on stage who
looks like someone’s dad
but the kids don’t mind
because he’s rockin the scene
they all know the words you
can’t hear the words     like

a reverie
the breakdown builds in your face
and burns
hotter than music and
impossible to stop

you are inside yourself
looking out with nothing
to hold you solid to the ground

you excuse yourself to the lounge
to cry among the ancient rockers
in their concert t-shirts and
wedding rings
mingling
with the disassociated
girls in torn stockings and tattooed arms
checking the weight of their breasts
in each other’s eyes

you were there

wiping your tears
with your black scarf
not wanting them to see you
wanting them to see you
smiling at them seeing you
seeing you

Advertisements

11 Comments

Filed under poetry

11 responses to “Buzzcock Menopause

  1. Deb

    Wow. I _felt_ the rhythm and flow so deep in this I had to read it out loud. Beautiful.

  2. Thanks, Deb! I read all my poems aloud as I edit them. Rhythm, to me, is as important as the image in poetry.

  3. Marcy

    Boy have I been there! Very beautiful imagery. What a great poet you are!

  4. Wow…loved the depth of the poem. Thanks for sharing!

    Congratulations on the novel Danika. I hope to make it to your reading in Secret Garden if time permits:-)

  5. Thanks all around Marcy and Suma.

    Suma – hope you can make it to one of my launch readings in Seattle.

  6. Bryan Borland

    I love the poem, but the title is a mark of savant-level genius.

  7. Such a beautiful poem.

    When are you doing a reading of your novel in Vancouver?

  8. Tonight! Check out the events on my Brigitta of the White Forest Facebook Page. 🙂

  9. I love poetry, especially when it’s read aloud and by the poet herself. Wish I could write it, but I’m stuck with prose.

  10. Lee – Hi! Thanks for wandering over. I was a poet long before I was a novelist and don’t write as many as I used to. But, it’s very satisfying when I do. 🙂

From my brain to yours

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s