Peggy Aylsworth poetry has appeared in numerous literary journals throughout the U.S. and abroad, including Poetry Salzburg Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, The MacGuffin. Her work was nominated for the 2012 Pushcart Prize.
Winter 2012
Table of Contents - Vol. VIII, No. 4
Poetry Translations Fiction Non-fiction Reviews
Peggy Aylsworth
Outside the wind
breaks innocent branches.
I feel it like an arm pulled from its socket.
Sock it to the rich!
I’m hardly one
to jab a guilt in anyone’s solar plexus.
What arrived after
years of mismatched forks and spoons
was a lamp.
Turn me on, it said.
When I did, it lit my life from here
to Xanadu.
A perfect fit,
I told the salesman.
He let me walk across the carpet.
I went outside.
The new shoes shined like
your first hello.
He moved his whiskey sour
closer to the woman
at the bar.
She had brushed her long blond hair,
outlined her lips
a careful red.
He seemed a man of ready means.
They spoke
of many things, what he – what she –
an ease
of open possibilities
until. . .
his slant on a controversial
politician.
He said he favored recall.
Her glass slammed
on the bar.
She gathered coat and purse,
removing
more than presence,
fled as though
pursued
by Bluebeard.
You paddle, said the little white duck
to her partner
in the blue and yellow boat.
Oh, me, me, me, always me! he replied.
But you do it
so well, my dear.
Please,
said the cat, curled on a ledge
just above
the white gate,
I’m trying to sleep.
Harrumph! said the duck,
you’re dreaming
still of a pea-green boat
with all that honey,
all that money.
Paddle, she said,
as she took her ease.
And they sailed away to
the Land of Never Mind.
Ever notice that the front page headlines
have little to do with you?
They might give you a clue about your taxes
or, if you have a son,
the war that’s on the brink will prepare you for the worst.
But on the whole
I’d rather read Andrjei Stasiuk,
or study astronomy, maybe
physics.
Last night was clear enough to see the stars,
along with a crisp white
crescent moon.
To me the sight of Orion’s belt
beats knowing
a rock star wants to build
five mansions on dangerous ground.
Don’t bother
telling me about painting Forth Rail Bridge
in Scotland,
a job for Sisyphus.
Little chance I’ll take that trip.
Now here’s an item
that might interest some high rollers
(I confess I’m not):
Wall Street is about to jump with Facebook fever.
Did you know
that ultrasound,
run through a substance,
causing it to oscillate,
produces energy, without wires,
even light?
This is what
I learned today at brunch.
Far more interesting
than Yosemite had a flaky winter.
My husband thinks
I’m acting like an ostrich.
He may be right.
© Peggy Aylsworth
