Tuesday, May 13, 2025

Don't Corner a Poet


It’s just me, out of my mind
sipping on helium, pondering
why a tuna fish sandwich
is on a vegan menu, and how
to install a security system on
a dollhouse without a door
or glass on the windows.

I’m not pretty when I’m backed
in a corner, but hey, there are
those who don’t listen when
I say my vocabulary has teeth. 

There aren’t any caution signs
on a poet … They can hop from
a flower poem to beneath an umbraculum
so dark with honesty a reader will
seek a priest even if they’re not catholic. 

So if you don’t have a tornado shelter,
don’t create the storm … I’m not pretty
when backed in a corner, and not timid
about writing with my teeth. 
  
©Susie Clevenger 2025


 

Wednesday, May 7, 2025

Not Much Gets Past Louise

 


He makes me as comfortable
as a crow sipping gin in a guillotine.
I’ve never been moonstruck enough
to get blushed cheeks when a snake
calls me Sugar.

That wolf in Wranglers is more
like a piece of gum in the bottom
of my purse than the Romeo
in a mirror he sees with that comb over.

Now I’m not one to judge a man
who’s been saying goodbye to his hair,
but when he comes with a Bible
and thinks every woman is born
to submit, I’ll put on a black robe
and sentence him to leave. 

This isn’t the first time he tried
to Genesis me at my cash register.
Hell, most every Tuesday night
he slaps down a six pack of Bud Light
on the counter along with an apple.

Wal-Mart expects me to be polite
so I keep that smile on my teeth,
take his money, but not his crap.
I politely inquire, “Brother Don,
does your congregation know
you like to take a bottle to visitation?

©Susie Clevenger 2025





Monday, May 5, 2025

Results of a Ribectomy

 


Hey, it’s me
that ribectomy
because you 
were lonely.

Is it working 
out for you,
that not being
lonely part?

I thought, being
made of a rib,
you’d want me
to walk beside you,
but you want me
watching the back
of your head.

That worked for a bit,
but not so much now.
You just keep walking
us toward war.

I’m moving in front
so we can stop
walking the dead
end of your treadmill. 

Remember
 that time
you were lonely?
I’m not sure it was
made clear to you
the rib was given
 her own voice. 

©Susie Clevenger 2025



Thursday, May 1, 2025

Black Coffee and a Tin Halo


Coffee black, cactus tongue sharp,
and a tin halo makes Louise
Mother Mary of the only
Wal-Mart that can brag
bear spray is their biggest seller.

It doesn’t take an Einstein to guess
Kodiak Alaska wasn’t named after
a cattle ranch in Texas or a chicken farm in Arkansas.

Up in the chill where remote
doesn’t describe an armchair controller,
Louise is the best glitter on ice for miles.

She brags the doll ambulance (make-up section)
is where a lady can paint her cheeks tulip pink
to tease a man into believing she’ll stay longer
than a bikini strut on Homer Spit Beach in January.

No one really knows how Louise ended up in Kodiak.
She doesn’t talk about her past or wink and flirt about the future.
It seems to the locals she’s a unicorn in the rough,
a salty angel with a southern drawl who dropped
her wings in the Wal-Mart parking to hold court 
in a kingdom where you can buy a gun and plastic ivy. 

©Susie Clevenger 2025

I really don't know how my poetry arrived in a Wal-Mart in Kodiak, Alaska, but my muse took me there.  So I did some research, (yes, poets do research), and I found my Louise. :)