MAP #67

Theme: Hey Cupid, Has Your Aim Improved?

1. From Jacob Elliott of Columbus, Georgia:


She seduced me into her own world

Like magic I spun

Through darkness grasping for light

A new place she sent me to

How would I ever find my way out

Crawling onto stars

And hanging by my toes

On a sliver of moonsparkle

The only help I could receive

To break the barrier

Of her wretched hair

I could not see how I was deceived

Everything seemed so well between us

Love had struck my eyes

And I could not shade it with my hands

Her tantalizing beauty

Would not let me overcome her

An obstacle she became

She only used me for soul

Mind, beauty, and heart she also wanted

Unbelievable powers and wisdom she had possessed

Only to become egocentric and want more

An insatiable desire she had

For my love I had thought

Trickery and deception were on the menu

I felt my way through

With grievous pain and labor

The moonsparkle safely tucked in my pocket

Comets and meteors blazed at me

As earth looked upon me with hypocrisy

No help it lent me

Swimming through blackholes

And wandering weightlessly around

Somehow I would make my way back

For revenge upon love

Sticking my tongue out to catch

Bits of starwrinkles to appease my appetite

Flowing marvelously in the waves

That brought me to earth well managed

This help that rather tickled my chin

Finding my lost love

And challenge her with a fight

When she was hiding in my mind

Holding it hostage

Daring me to make my deadly move

Fidgeting for my pocket

I felt inside it for the life saving moonsparkle

Realizing hope was the fear I was living on

She stabbing my brain with mystical pleasures

Convulsions moving throughout my body

Touching the burnt rim of my pocket

Where a hole had been left inside

Me not knowing what charm had been lost

Falling to the ground with a magnificent thud

As my face fell into the irony of the moonsparkle

With force it inhabited my mind

Only to be too late

As she were crowned with a great victory

Over my hapless fighting efforts

milkman '99

2. From Victoria Vlach of Austin:

In general,

a heart can only be broken

in the places

where someone loves.

© 1998 VAV

And I would sit with you

on the low couch of our home,

and watch the shadow of the earth

turn to sky to night

© 1999 VAV

3. From Rev. Wyrdsli, of Austin:

Mail Order Bride?

Inessa leans out of the color pictures in the free catalog

I got in the mail.

She has the face of a China doll.

Her silky looking brown hair brushes her shoulders

A white lace bluouse wraps around her neck.

A tiny pearl earring hangs from her lobe.

Her eyes, dark brown with just a hint of blue shadow, are sad, they say:

"Please, come and get me out of Russia!"

Inessa is twenty six years old, five foot five, one hundred twenty six pounds

and a University Graduate in Engineering

Her English level is three out of five,

She says:

"I'm faithful, kind, serious, intelligent, optimistic. Seeking serious

W. (I guess that means white, or wealthy) man who could become

my lover and husband."

I am already in love with Inessa.

I have fantasized scamming the dollars it will take to go to Russia,

whatever it will take to bring her back with me here,

where she will not doubt melt in Texas heat after surviving Soviet winters.

She is sweet and gentle and in love with me.

She moves gently and with just the right touch of trepidation.

Eternally grateful for getting her out of Russia.

She is intelligent but sweetly naive about Western ways.

I lovingly explain in simple English.

Confusing her with my private jokes

she won't get for another year.

She looks at me with her big sad brown eyes and says: "Okay."

On the other hand, she is a wizard. She downloads the service packs

from Microsoft fixing the bugs in my

Windows NT. And the apartment is spotless.

I have come to this.

I have come to dreaming about a mail order bride. How pathetic must I be?

I told someone, and she said: "But what if it doesn't work?

What if she goes and sleeps with your best friend?"

"Well I don't have a best friend." I joke. "Besides, she would never do that to me,

not my Inessa."

Rev. Wyrdsli

4. From Celeste Cafasso of Pittsburgh:

You Wondered Where I Was

Roll over in that dream,

it's time to hug the pillow.

The scent of all those feathers

tickles the nostrils seeking me.

Smile softly in that dream.

Just one sweet nightime chuckle

will explode across the silence

of my whispered smile back to you.

By now you know that I will take you

to dreams of mountain rain.

Too warm for snow, too bright for night,

Too many things for nothing.

Love all the loving that you dare.

Seep, drip, expand the thought

as all those dream rivers widen,

rush and lay their mists upon you.

Roll over again in that dream.

Push wondering into the lumpy pillow.

You know where I am, there beside you.

Let's roll over and get some sleep.

© 1999 Celeste A.Cafasso

5. From B. S. Allen of New Braunfels, Texas:

In April, David


Whether I'm walking,

raised to the return of the robins,

or inclined to cup the primrose,

I come to remember.


And in these simple gestures,

I revisit another April

where each new blossom grew

brighter and seemed to bloom forever


How the ground was alive with language:

an alphabet of flowers

looped across the meadow,

set down in paragraphs of color.


And I imagine him, this poet,

with a strong, steady hand

writing upon a slate of sky

and every word, his name.


© 1999 B.S. Allen