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Archive for the ‘Melanie Browne’ Category

Two Poems by Melanie Browne

Film Noir In The burbs

hubby doesn’t know about the
detective, he’s been nosing
around, asking me all kinds

of questions, while a cigarette
dangles from his mouth.
I invite him into my boudoir,

the two of us in my boudoir,
and I say hey, how about
a drink? I mix us

a couple of highballs,
he says, where were you the
night of the fifth?

I was taking the kids
to the doctors, then to
the grocery store, and they

begged for candy and soda, later
they jumped on the bed,
while I watched a little t.v.,

thats TMI, he said,
what’s with all the questions, I say
you gonna charge me with something?

and I brushed my lips across
his neck while he crushed his
cigarette out in his drink

the ice beginning to melt
just a little, and he said,
I’m coming back tomorrow,

but first I have to follow
some leads, bring some wine,
I told him, and cheese

___________________________

The Genealogy Of Our Great-Grandmother’s Fingers

Their loss
never recorded
in the family bible
next to births, deaths,
& marriages,
not to mention we
know so little
about the family of the
boy who chopped
them off on a dare,
but no doubt
his lineage
followed that
of a great woodsman
who lived upriver,
perhaps if the
circumstances had
been different
they might have
eventually fallen
in love and
gotten married,
she might have
learned to
play the
piano with gusto,
he would
listen quietly
while enjoying
another after-dinner
cigar

Read Full Post »

I heard somewhere
About a
holiness preacher
from Italy Texas
who was in love
With a girl
Named Darla

About how he robbed
Banks with
snakes
curled
Around his neck

How every time
He stuck
A gun
in someone’s
face it
was a new test
of faith

the snakes
a testament
to his resolve
to prove to
Darla that
His love
Was true

Darla got
bored of his
shenanigans
after awhile
but I heard she
Kept some
of the money

Read Full Post »

We were both sitting there
facing each other. I hadn’t seen
him in what must have been years
but it almost seemed longer. Like centuries,
like a millennium. He was telling me
about the best Christmas he ever had.
He had just started needing to shave,
And he was proud of it. he really was.
He said he had this dream. it was vivid.
One of those dreams where you can’t tell if it’s
real or not. It was like that.
he dreamed he was alone in his house,
His mother and father had gone to town and he
Just knew he smelled gingerbread
And when he got to the kitchen there they were,
Two gingerbread men, but one was a man
And the other looked like a woman,
but the one that looked like a woman
she had breasts, I mean they were big,
And frosted and he thought
That gingerbread cookie was too good to be true
And when he looked up he saw Jane Russell,
Just standing there in his kitchen all dolled up
And lookin right at him and she said she made
Them cookies for her favorite outlaw and she blew
Him a kiss and he said Christmastime never was
The same after the that, it never was the same
Because he knew it would never be much better
Than that, and Santa couldn’t bring him what he wanted.

Read Full Post »

We were both sitting there
facing each other. I hadn’t seen
him in what must have been years
but it almost seemed longer. Like centuries,
like a millennium. He was telling me
about the best Christmas he ever had.
He had just started needing to shave,
And he was proud of it. he really was.
He said he had this dream. it was vivid.
One of those dreams where you can’t tell if it’s
real or not. It was like that.
he dreamed he was alone in his house,
His mother and father had gone to town and he
Just knew he smelled gingerbread
And when he got to the kitchen there they were,
Two gingerbread men, but one was a man
And the other looked like a woman,
but the one that looked like a woman
she had breasts, I mean they were big,
And frosted and he thought
That gingerbread cookie was too good to be true
And when he looked up he saw Jane Russell,
Just standing there in his kitchen all dolled up
And lookin right at him and she said she made
Them cookies for her favorite outlaw and she blew
Him a kiss and he said Christmastime never was
The same after the that, it never was the same
Because he knew it would never be much better
Than that, and Santa couldn’t bring him what he wanted.

Read Full Post »

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