from "give 'em hell, iskwew" by Samantha Nock

[asakiyume]

Poetry sometimes speaks right to your marrow in a way other words don't; it's like music or a fragrance.

These lines are an excerpt from "give 'em hell, iskwew," a poem by Samantha Nock in her collection A Family of Dreamers (thanks always to radiantfracture for introducing me to Samantha Nock's poetry)

in kokum's purse she has the same shade of red
lipstick that mom wears
she applies a heavy layer
and kisses a tissue to blot
places it back into her bag.

red lips left like a fingerprint.

Lori, i think kokum has room
in her purse for all of us.

Comments

[sartorias]

That's a great analog for poetry, a fragrance especially.

That's a nifty poem. Packs quite a punch despite being so small. Maybe because it's so small.

[asakiyume]

This is actually only a portion of the poem! I should make that clearer. But the whole thing is still short.

[radiantfracture]

<3 Samantha Nock

[asakiyume]

good stuff

[sovay]

Lori, i think kokum has room
in her purse for all of us.

I love that.

[asakiyume]

Me too <3