Nancy Ames

(This is first-person fiction and the ex-husbands are stereotypical)

'I tried to make it work -
I always tried really hard,
...

'She's just a perspicacious girl,
peeking past her long, dark hair,
her finger twisting one dark curl
in the candle's golden glare.
...

If you can't say something nasty,
don't say anything at all.
You're saying I need rhinoplasty
and I'm riding for a fall?
...

'A boozer
is a loser,
walking on a lake.
...

Grumbling thunder,
rainbows at night,
illegal plunder
and muscular right.
...

'I'm sitting here
in my good girl dress,
and I got an awful fear
that I might say 'yes'.
...

It must be like opening a new door
in a familiar wall, the one with the
photograph, the same old photograph
but starting to look so strange, just
...

(There is an implied speaker, a political manipulator)

'The strength of your opponent,
his heart, his muscle-tone,
...

Little old ladies
rule the world -
everybody knows that.
...

The women ran
screaming like goats
but he was warned
by the flash
...

'I love this day,
this day so new.
I love this day
and so do you.
...

Just one alphabet,
an imprint on the brain,
and you'll never forget
or be puzzled again.
...

After the concert, he found himself shuffling along the sidewalk with all the rest of the exuberant audience, humming one of the band's big-hit melodies, his eyes still strobing slightly from the light-show. It was so cool and digital, like all the alternating head-lights and tail-lights going by.
The sky was starting to get much darker and the air was suddenly colder and then snowflakes were falling on everybody. He pulled his hood up over his head.
It wasn't too long before there weren't so many people on the street, and he was surprised to realize that he had been following one particular girl for some time. There was something strange and yet familiar about her. By then enough snow was on the ground to show footprints, and hers were the tracks of very small boots with tiny pointed heels.
The girl stopped under a street-lamp and lifted her small face to look up into the night sky. He stopped and stood where he was and looked up too, perhaps hoping to display a sympathetic attitude.
...

'You're making me happy -
it's so hard to believe.
You're making me happy
and I might have to leave.
...

(The setting is a mountainside during the gold rush of the 19th century, and the hangman is talking to a youngster.)


'It's a real nice view for dying,
...

'I knew the line I always use
would never reel her in,
and her shiny high-heel shoes
weren't gonna let this loser win.
...

(This is a caricature poem and is first-person fiction)

'I impersonate myself
in another place and time
...

'Machiavelli always told us so
and now all these finely tuned
instruments have easily eliminated
the humans erroneous but continue
...

'This love is like a living force
that makes you move along,
like riding on a willing horse
when you were young and strong.
...

My kitten is black and she loves the snow
and when morning ends the night,
she jumps out of the shadows to show
her blackness on all the snow-white.
...