Welcome to where I am, where my kitchen's always messy, a pot's (or a poet) always about to boil over, a dog is always begging to be fed. Drafts of poems on the counter. Windows filled with leaves. Wind. Clouds moving over the mountains. If you like poetry, books, and music--especially dog howls when a siren unwinds down the hill-- you'll like it here.


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Friday, April 9, 2010

POET OF THE DAY: JOSEPH MILLS

Joseph Mills is currently a faculty member at the University of NC School of the Arts. His published work includes poetry, fiction, drama, and criticism, including two previous volumes of poetry with Press 53. The two poems below are from his brand-new book, Love and Other Collisions. Please go to the Press 53 site for more information.


On My Mother’s 70th Birthday

After I sing “Happy Birthday,” I identify myself,
and we talk about the weather, where I live now,
how clear the phone signal is, what the bill might be.
When I mention her age again, I feel the confusion.
70? That can’t be right. There has been a mistake.
She has been cheated somehow of time owed to her.
How old are you? she asks in a tone that suggests
her suspicion I’m in on the con, then she demands
the ages of my brother, sister, wife and children.
With each answer, I can sense a growing anger
at this betrayal by her family, who, behind her back,
have grown older than the woman she knows she is.


The Comfort of Family

My mother begins to cry because she’s alone,
having grown up with no brothers or sisters.
It’s a sentiment I’ve never heard before,
and, I guess, it’s reassuring to know,
even at seventy, you still can develop
fresh ways to make yourself feel like shit.

I point out, siblings don’t always get along.
Doesn’t she remember how her children fought?
She says, That’s just because you were all mean
to each other. You are just so dog-gone mean.

I insist she’s not alone. She has family
and friends who visit, who call, who care.
She says, Whatever, gives a dismissive wave,
and turns away, annoyed by my obstinacy,
my refusal to admit that she didn’t get
all the people she deserved from this life.


4 comments:

Lorenzo — Alchemist's Pillow said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Lorenzo — Alchemist's Pillow said...

Two beautiful and heartbreaking poems. Both set off shudders of recognition through me

Vicki Lane said...

Love the close of that first poem -- and I recognize that dismissive wave in the second!

Jessie Carty said...

Really love those poems and the title of the new book :)