IN THESE FEARFUL TIMES I FIND THE THING WITH FEATHERS AT HOME DEPOT

by Lois Marie Harrod

AI-generated graphic by Shutterstock for The New Verse News

It’s been dismal—

the mice began invading my cupboarded coconut flakes

because, said my neighbor Ed, who knows about such things,

it’s so hot outside they come into the cool, and my neighbor Cheryl

started calling me The Mouse Slayer,  

because I snapped seven of their hot little necks,

and then a thunderstorm wedged the roof vent flap open,

letting the storm leak onto the toilet where I was sitting,

and a dead squirrel deposited himself in my yard,

and because my dead husband can no longer do it,

I had to shovel the desiccated little rodent into a garbage bag

because the ground is too dry to dig a proper grave,

and then the spin switch on my forty-seven-year-old washing machine

gave up like democracy, and I had to wring out the bath towels,  

hand by arthritic hand, and scoop out gallons of water with a measuring cup.

Next I had to go off to The Home Depot where I spent more than I hoped

on a new ecologically-friendly washing machine, 

and when the bearded salesman gave me the receipt,

he said, And what do you think of what’s going on in this world?

Who are you voting for?

 

And, yes, I was afraid to answer. I knew what was coming . . .

 

but I said Kamala anyway, because what could this 6-foot bearded guy

in an orange apron do to a less than 5-foot customer in The Home Depot?

Shoot me?

But his beard spread into a grin, and he said Good,

and spent another 27 minutes telling me about his grandfather,

a holocaust survivor, and his uncle who saved 19 people at Pearl Harbor,

and how Hitler came into power and just how would-be dictators

are still coming into power—all of which I knew—but he needed me to listen.

 

And, yes, as I left, Emily Dickinson’s Hope,

that little thing with feathers, flitted down the paint aisle—

but Emily, are you listening from your grave?—

you are wrong, that little bird does demand a crumb from us,

many crumbs from us.

We must feed her.

Lois Marie Harrod’s recent publications include her 18^th  poetry collection Spat (Finishing Line Press, 2021) and her chapbook Woman (Blue Lyra, 2020). Dodge poet, life-long educator and writer, she is published in literary journals and online ezines from American Poetry Review to Zone 3.

REMEMBER THE MISSING

by Lois Marie Harrod

An installation in the form of a dinner table set for Shabbat, the Jewish sabbath, stands outside the Tel Aviv Museum of Art—with 203 empty chairs representing those taken hostage by Hamas in its surprise attack on Israel on October 7. Photo: Tamir Kalifa for The New York Times, October 21, 2023.

203 place settings, one for each hostage

believed to be in Gaza, no end, no beginning

of the guests who have not appeared—

only a plate, a napkin and a wine glass for each, 

the photo taken as the sun sets so that the wine glasses

cast their solitary shadows on the backs of folding chairs.

Up and down what seems an endless table, wine bottles

stand uncorked, apples at each guest's place, 

bread, boats of flowers as far as the camera

can frame, empty chairs for hundreds, thousands,

all those made late for dinner by the rabid angers

of a few, and there is a woman too

caught by the photographer

walking behind the empty chairs.

She wears blue jeans and cropped top.

She has with a small tattoo on her left wrist.

She is looking at her i-Phone. 

She does not seem to see the endless table of empty seats.

Editor's Note: On October 21, it was believed that Hamas had captured 203 hostages; on Monday, October 23, according to The New York Times, Israel said that Hamas holds 222 hostages.

Lois Marie Harrod’s 18^th collection Spat was published by Finishing Line Press, 2021 and her chapbook Woman by Blue Lyra, 2020. Dodge poet, life-long educator and writer, she is published in literary journals and online ezines from American Poetry Review to Zone 3.

SOMETHING ABOUT NERO

by Lois Marie Harrod

Dave Whamond, Canada, PoliticalCartoons.com

Though writing poetry
often seems like fiddling
while Rome burns,

perhaps we should remember
violins were not invented
until the 15th century,

long after the Great Twiddler died.
Neither pencils or pens then,
nor ballpoints and computers

on which we’ve been fiddling
since confined long term
to our virtual prisons.

In fact  (it’s nice to have a fact)
if Nero played on anything at all,
it was on a cithara—

though Tacitus claims
Nero did not scrape the strings,
but warbled The Sack of Troy

in his best operatic voice
while Rome burned faster
than California.

Tacitus offers no eye-witnesses
to confirm his story, just as now
no known epics attest

how many times or in what situation
Nero referred to his legions as losers.
It is has been corroborated though

that this Nastiest of Emperors
used the land cleared by his fire
to build a Golden Palace

with surrounding Pleasure Gardens—
and that perhaps is worth noting
in a poem or two of toppled monuments.

Lois Marie Harrod’s latest collection Woman was published by Blue Lyra in February 2020. Her Nightmares of the Minor Poet appeared in June 2016 from Five Oaks; her chapbook And She Took the Heart appeared in January 2016; Fragments from the Biography of Nemesis (Cherry Grove Press) and the chapbook How Marlene Mae Longs for Truth (Dancing Girl Press) appeared in 2013. A Dodge poet, she is published in literary journals and online ezines from American Poetry Review to Zone 3. She teaches at the Evergreen Forum in Princeton and at The College of New Jersey.

DIY FACEMASKS

by Lois Marie Harrod

            for digital spoken-word readings

You can do it with a bandanna.

You can do it with a folded bandanna
and a rubberband.

You can do it with a folded bandanna
and a rubberband or two,
It won’t protect you
but you can do it with a bandanna.

You can do it with a folded bandanna
and a rubberband and a coffee filter—
we prefer unused to used.
It won’t protect you
but you can do it with a bandanna.

You can do it with a folded bandanna
and a rubberband and a furnace filter
if your furnace filter is not too dirty.
Cut into pieces.
If you don’t have scissors, use a knife,
we prefer clean to unclean.
You can do it with a bandanna.

You can do it with an old t-shirt.
You can do it with a bra cup.
You can do it with a pair of jockey shorts
just pull them over your head
and peer through the leg holes--
again we prefer unused to used.

You can do it with half a grapefruit
You can do it with paper towels.

If you can find it,
you can do it with toilet paper.
Wrap a roll of toilet paper around your head.
Punch out eyeholes, but be careful of your eyes.
Better, put a pillow case over your head
after poking out eyeholes with a dirty screwdriver.

You can even do it with a banana
or at least the banana skins
and a little gorilla glue--
we don’t advise it, it won’t protect,
but you’ll feel better if you do.

Lois Marie Harrod’s latest collection Woman was published by Blue Lyra in February 2020. Her Nightmares of the Minor Poet appeared in June 2016 from Five Oaks; her chapbook And She Took the Heart appeared in January 2016; Fragments from the Biography of Nemesis (Cherry Grove Press) and the chapbook How Marlene Mae Longs for Truth (Dancing Girl Press) appeared in 2013. A Dodge poet, she is published in literary journals and online ezines from American Poetry Review to Zone 3. She teaches at the Evergreen Forum in Princeton and at The College of New Jersey.