National Poetry Month 2020 Day 8: “A new constellation” & “Everybody”

Just over a week in and I have established, as I expected, that though my posts are short, few if any
people read their content (but y’all like my pictures, thanks!) I’m fine with this, as the poetry feeds me
with or without an audience, and I can feel brave in putting it out there, any genre or any state of editing,
propriety, or sharability, safe in the unlikelihood of criticism. So here’s some slightly more risque poetic
content for you if you are paying attention. If you’re here and you don’t like more salacious content, then
re-join me tomorrow ;)

The first selection is already my second from Marge Piercy this month. I know, I need to get more
different authors in! I’ll probably continue into May at this rate, I have so many “favorite” poems and
authors that I want to share :) “A new constellation” especially resonated for me when I was living in
Portland, and revelling in all the beautiful ways to be in relationship with other human beings and the
amazing web of connection that we all weave together. I later made a trio choreography with this poem
as one of it's points of inspiration, "Undertow," in 2014. [View "Undertow" here]

A new constellation

by Marge Piercy

We go intertwined, him and you

And me, her and him, you and her,

Each the center of our own circle

Of attraction and compulsion and gravity.

What a constellation we make: I call it 

The Matrix. I call it the dancing

Family. I call it wheels inside wheels.

Ezekiel did not know he was seeing

The pattern for enduring relationship

in the late twentieth century.

All the rings shine gold as wedding bands

But they are the hoops magicians use

That seem solid and unbroken, yet can slip

Into chains of other rings and out. 

They are strong enough to hang houses on,

Strong enough to serve as cranes, yet 

they are open. We fall through each other,

we catch each other, we cling, we flip on.

No one is at the center, but each

Is her own center, no one controls

The jangling swing and bounce and merry-

Go-round lurching intertangle of this mobile.

We pass through each other trembling

And we pass through each other shrieking

And we pass through each other shimmering.

The circle is neither unbroken

Nor broken but living, a molecule attracting

Atoms that wants to be a protein,

Complex, mortal, able to sustain life,

Able to reproduce itself inexactly,

Learn and grow.

In Portland, one of my favorite monthly events to attend is an open-mic called “Dirty Queer” at In Other Words
bookstore. It was a wild adults-only event that introduced me to some of my favorite local poets, artists,
eccentrics, and queers! I never stood to read, but I admired the guts and passion displayed by all those who
did share, and I was inspired to keep my private writing practice going. If I had read something back then, it
probably would have been this:

Everybody

By Blythe Stephens

“I bet you say that to everybody,”

she said.

Well, no

I may be a tart

But I try to be a creative one.

Sure, there are the fallbacks:

You’re hot

Oh baby

Give it to me

More

(no less authentic for their lack of originality)

But I mix it up

Pet names

Filthy talk

Alternately sweet and rippingly rough

Koala

Angel

Pie Grrl

Partner in Crime

Sweetie

Darling

Little One

So strong

Soft

Irresistible temptation

You're so bad bad bad

Fantasy come true

Tie me up

Let me hold you

(maybe I shouldn’t give away so much?)

you beautiful, exquisite

yes, unique, irreplaceable

slut.

So no, I don’t say THAT

To everybody.