June 20-26, 2022: Poetry from Rp Verlaine and Joan Fingon

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Rp Verlaine

Rp Verlaine lives and writes in New York City. He has an MFA in creative writing from City College and taught English in New York public schools until he retired. He has several collections of poetry including Damaged by Dames & Drinking (2017), Femme Fatales Movie Starlets & Rockers (2018), and Lies From The Autobiography 1-3 (2018-2020).

The following work is Copyright © 2022, and owned by Rp Verlaine and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Lilli

Was maybe 4’11”
but always wore boots
with lifts that made her
a height that she said
gave her large enough
shadows to keep
crack heads and weirdos
at a safe enough distance.

She’d call me late
on weekday nights
to ask why I was doing.

Writing letters to god
with no hope
of a reply, I’d say.
You write any poems
about me? She’d ask.
Working on it, I’d say.
Mind if I come by?
You always make me laugh
and the sex is usually good.

Also, we drank 
a lot unconcerned.
It was amazing how
much a woman her size
could drink.

As a lover she was
even better and held on to me
tighter than most.

The last time she called me
she told me she was very ill
and leaving New York
for her mom’s house in Maine.
Four years later 
when I saw her again
I didn’t recognize her.
A rare blood disease
and bad liver had
aged her beyond her years.

Not long after, she died.
Spending her final days in church
praying for god to save her.

I think of her sometimes
missing her a great deal
I’d have to say at 4’11”,
she stood taller than most

Joan Fingon

Joan C. Fingon lives in sunny Ventura, California. She enjoys writing and reading poetry in her back garden. Among her many haiku publications, The Drunken Honeybee: A Collection of Haiku and Senryu is her first poetry book.

The following work is Copyright © 2022, and owned by Joan Fingon and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

The Diner

standing outside the diner
in a small town
pushing the door handle
warm to her touch
in the midday sun

strange sounds
of people talking
drinking coffee
sitting in red vinyl booths
take a quick glance
and look away
she steps inside as the bell
tinkles overhead

“Do you know me?” she says
to the man at the counter
he shakes his head
and turns towards the kitchen
“Hey Harry, Sheila’s here.”

Harry comes out
from behind the swinging doors
all dressed in white
wiping his hands on a towel
smiles, takes her hand, and says
“Come on Sheila, let’s get you home,
I am Uncle Harry, remember me?”

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