Donna Kerness Walence
Class of 1960

From The Beat Goes On

Segment Three

The Facets of Life
COCK-TAIL TALE

I've poured myself into those
beer stained shoes--
night after night-
The faded pink suede
looks up at my face
like dead condiments
alone at the bar-
They shuffle me around dripping tables
sagging with happy hour men--
Bouncing breasts melt into their eyes
as I evacuate crowded glasses,
I stumble over bulbous blind fingers
pinching my butt,
And by tomorrow,
they pretend to be Men......................
When The Shouting Ends

When the shouting ends
Humors blend
when the shouting ends
moons suspend storms
soon sending
sighing suns
where all skies mend the broken
clouds
which now descend
like lace lined feathers
through once wet winds.............
IT'S ALMOST APRIL AGAIN

When I'm snared into Spring
by her sprays of melon and pine
that carelessly carry me
through her open house
of rain and sun and earth and
pregnant birds
Will I find
my eyes rolling down
the pavement with
my body lagging behind...............
Light headed
April sees everything once
She lines up the trees on the streets
like naked bones
about to burst
and slaps my face
April sees everything once
a splash of forsythias
dripping down my arms

with the sun...............
I succumb
to the crocus
in slow motion
and swallow the birth
through my eyes like
a magic potion
yet
in my tiredness
I wait
as she kisses me
like I was the last
cigarette

she makes me wonder
will she trash my lover
with the same infliction
of wanting to sing in our dreams
will she ignite us with her
horrible tingling dust from
lilacs
before they fade

or is she still the baffling love enhancer
matching wrong names
in the telephone phone book...........

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Photoes of Daisy Aldan, from the collection of Lee Stewart, 1953

Page Sixteen of Twenty-Three

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