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Posts Tagged ‘lie’

Circle Time

 

 

The teacher is singing, her voice

a bluegreen moss that softens the room.

I don’t know why I make a fist,

but I let my left hand land

on the back of the boy beside me.

 

It makes a sweet thump, as if

he is hollow inside. And I like it,

the sound of that thump.

And I do it again. And I do it

again, my fist a warm stamp

 

on his silence. The teacher

is singing, her voice a leaf

that whirls through the room,

and I hit him again, not

to hurt him, but because

 

the thump sounds so good.

The teacher stops singing.

She looks at me and the boy

and asks us what is happening.

He is hitting me, I say,

 

and the boy does not say no.

She sends him to the corner

to sit alone. This is when I learn

to lie. Beside me, the space

on the rug is silent as wool.

 

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and the mouth puckers

into sweet distress

as if saying something kind

while the mind kicks the tongue

and says liar, liar.

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When they ask what you did this morning,

tell them, “Oh, nothing much.”

When they say, “What are you doing tomorrow,”

shrug and say, “Oh, I’m busy.

We have plans.” That is true.

Say goodbye today as if you mean it.

Do not mention the cake, the balloons, the gift.

I know. It’s hard to keep a secret.

And just when you think you would burst

if you could, remind yourself

it’s for their own good.

Tell yourself, it is better this way.

No. Sweetheart. Forget what I say.

If it’s not a surprise, that’s okay.

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I know you’re kinda mad I’m late. I’m sorry,
but you see there was this tiger trapped
up high inside a tree who offered me
a cherry tart if only I would help
him down. What could I do? It just did not
seem right to leave him stranded there. And so
I asked a large tarantula to weave
a silken net to catch the tiger when
he leapt. Well, she was tired from having laid
nine hundred eggs the day before, but when
she heard about the tart, she said she’d try.
A tern and toucan flying by said they
would help me hold the net to catch the tiger
when she leapt. What luck! I didn’t know
they lived around here. Anyway, a toad
in a tiara started teasing them.
He said our plan would never work, that birds
would not be strong enough to catch a tiger.
That’s when the triceratops came rambling
by and said he’d help us, too. But he
began to sneeze, his allergies were acting
up, perhaps it was the tulips? Or
the toadstool? I don’t know. The bummer was
he sneezed so much he had to go. The toucan
and the tern, offended by the toad,
flew off. They said, “A tart is not enough
for this abuse!” So there I sat beneath
the tiger, not sure what to do. That’s when
a turtle sat beside me and suggested
we could use his thimble as a diving
pool. The tiger had his doubts until
he saw a trout tail swish inside the thimble.
And he dove! And landed with a splash!
And came up with the trout between his teeth!
The bad news is he left the tart up in
the tree. And then the grumpy toad began
to throw tomatoes at the turtle. And
at me! And so I ran the whole way home.
I don’t know where the tiger’s gone—he mentioned
wanting to audition for a band.
He said he plays the triangle. It’s weird,
I know. So weird I worried that you’d not
believe me. I thought maybe I should lie
and tell you that I’m late because I didn’t
want to leave my friend’s house in the middle
of our game. But lying is so rude.
I knew that you’d appreciate the truth.

*This is a T poem for Lian Canty’s Alphabet Menagerie, http://www.alphabetmenagerie.com

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Song of Lies

An l-poem for Lian Canty’s Alphabet Menagerie, http://www.alphabetmenagerie.com

only one of these things is true

The ladybug lost its polka dots
while gazing at the moon.
And the lizard dusted the piano
while the clouds serenaded the loon.

The luna moth hitchhiked to France,
and the lemons went on strike—
they said they were tired of being so sour.
The lark bunting read limericks all night.

Well that kept awake the lady slipper
who was planted in earth with no dirt,
and the lemmings all ran in circles
and made pacts that no one would get hurt.

Meanwhile the lightning decided to stay
where it was in the sky for an hour,
and all the children gave up lollipops—
said they’d rather just sniff flowers.

The lunar landscape, bored with cheese,
made all the craters Jello.
And the wide-eyed snuggly loris
had poison in the sides of its elbows

so that anyone who touched it would die
from anaphylactic shock.
That’s the thing about a lie—
it’s only funny till it’s not.

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I do not believe him
when he says he sees
the sea turtle. But there
it is, like a giant round of driftwood,
disappearing into the turquoise
waves and unkempt white froth.
And there another.
It is so hard to know
what to do when
we doubt
is proved to be true.
Now what to do
the next time I know
he is lying or exaggerating.
Already, he is swearing
he sees the gray whales
off the dark cliffs and already
I feel that flock of doubts
rise up and swarm my thoughts.
So human, I tell myself,
to question him, so human
to want to believe.
I don’t know, I tell him,
that seems unlikely.
My eyes scan the tousled sea.

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in today’s mail
the cornbread recipe
her slanted cursive
the last meal
we ever shared

*

all evening
rain and for hours
double rainbow
too sweet for poems
but oh, so sweet

*

now
it burns
the noose
of an old
lie

*

in aisle seven
the sulky girl hugs a bag
of jumbo marshmallows
you must have said no,
the stranger says to me

*

even the splash
of dishwater heart-shaped
on the counter
any excuse
to think of love

*

waving
at the woman
in the green pick up
I toss a poem
to her rearview mirror

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