Poems by Miriam Kotzin.

 

A Penny for Your Thoughts: How to Write a Sustainable Feminist Poem

Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain,
I must give up my plastic ballpoint pen—
and pencil (number three)—for these restrain
my pent up thoughts. These tools are made for men.

Yet pens and pencils both are well equipped
to penetrate my verse with unforeseen
priapic, pens-up imagery. The dipped
quill, like a dripping pen, is still obscene.

But here I’ll write my penultimate thought,
that of an independent woman, and
worth more than what your penny, cheapskate, bought.
I pen my malediction; here’s my stand.

Claim the penis mightier than the word?
My darling, pending proof, I am not stirred.

 

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How to Write a Sustainable Protest Poem

 

First, choose a victim.
You can find them
everywhere these

days. And then pick
a villain. Take care
that his (or her) name

is easy to pronounce
and spell. The victim ought
to be photogenic, but

his (or her) name
may have many vowels
or consonants one

after the other just
so long as he (or she)
has a nickname, too.

Underlying principles
are a snap. Almost
any abstract noun

will do: “peace,” “justice,”
“liberty” spring to mind.
Leave righteous outrage

for the reader himself
(or herself) to bring
to the page. But small

children and animals—
the earth, saplings, make
the best victims. Who

will admit to hating
these? W.C. Fields is
dead. Write the poem

in your own blood
on the villain’s nude
torso to show your heart
is, even now, pure.

 

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Lurkers

Who’s leaning slouched against the jungle gym?
If we walk closer, we can see his face.
The lamppost near him flickers and grows dim.
He looks towards us, and he begins to pace.

He moves between the jungle gym and slide.
He stops, looks at his wrist, must see the time.
He shakes his head as though he can’t decide.
He grabs a bar, and he begins to climb.

He perches, balanced, at the very top.
He holds his arms straight up above his head.
He teeters, sways, then grabs the bar to stop.
It seems he’ll jump; he swings his legs instead.

So who—or what —keeps him out here so late?
We stand in shadows, too, and watch him wait.