Mannequin Envy
quarterly journal of poetic and visual art
Featured Artist:
Theresa Pfarr
More artwork by:
Cecilia Ferreira
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Roger Pfingston
ENCOUNTER
The kid leaned out
the open door of the Trans Am
as it slowed next to us,
packed with guys cruising
campus on a Sunday morning,
maybe still boozed up
after an all-nighter, my wife
and I walking to the arboretum.
He let fly, “Fuck you old people!”
as the car sped off, his arm
extended above the roof,
middle finger silhouetted.
Disbelief at first, then anger,
wanting to confront them...
with what? Words equally
demeaning? A weapon
of some kind, the quickly
imagined pistol, neatly tucked
under the shirt or strapped
to an ankle like the extra
piece cops carry?
When you first laughed
I thought you were crying.
“Fuck-you-old-peo-ple.
Come on, say it with me,”
you said, your finger stabbing
the air, stressing each syllable.
Soon we were among the trees,
both of us laughing, you saying
it would make a great T-shirt
to wear on our walks at the Y.
“What if they come back?”
I asked. “Let them,” you said,
slipping your arm around my waist.
A moment later you nuzzled
my beard and said, “If they do
come back, be ready,
because I’m going to kiss you
until they gag.” And then
you danced away, sliding
over the leafy walk to a tune
and a day increasingly ours.
APRIL’S BOY
Late breakfast,
rain tapping not
exactly soft shoe
over leaves I should’ve
raked six months ago,
and I’m still thinking about
last night’s moon,
a dome-headed poet
wearing a cape of clouds,
but this morning
Tuesday is a March matter
of little consequence,
a nothing moment
increasing in size
and warmth, sort of
like the furnace coming on,
and I am so at peace,
my Type A volume turned down,
I suddenly wax poetic and ask,
Whence this miraculous mending?
Gotcha! says the Bitch,
10 a.m. when my gullible angst
falls prey to this year’s
first tornado drill,
my acre of air beset
with a sisterhood of sirens upping
the amps: gotcha, gotcha, gotcha!
Born April’s boy,
is it any wonder I seek
the sanctuary of limestone walls,
the dark comfort under basement stairs?
Bio:
Roger Pfingston’s poems and photographs have appeared recently in The MacGuffin, Innisfree Poetry Journal, Texas Poetry Journal, Ellipsis, Poems Niederngasse, Poetry Midwest, The Sun, Kaleidowhirl, The Ledge, Triplopia, and Diner. Two poems will appear in Say This of Horses from Iowa Press, an anthology scheduled for release on Valentine’s Day of this year. His two most recent chapbooks are Earthbound from Pudding House Publications and Singing to the Garden from Parallel Press.
untitled, oil on canvas, 2006 Theresa Pfarr