That very talented poet, M.A.Griffiths, died in 2009. I am very pleased to learn that Grasshopper, a collection of her work, has been published by Arrowhead Books.
Here is a poem of hers that appeared in Snakeskin.
Pumpkin Pie
He’d sworn that she was not his type, too thin
with, at the most, three-quarters of a mind
and, Geez, that laugh – a gerbil drowned in gin!
He’d stressed again that he abhorred that kind
of wet-lipped tart with slap fit for a clown,
all tawdry flesh and flash, a laughing stock,
hems hoist like flags and necklines plunging down:
sure signs of too much mileage on the clock.
His wife soon read the tale in Visa’s sums,
his statements contradicted, line by line;
how odd a modern fairytale becomes
when fantasy and fact and lies combine.
That ugly sister was a myth – instead
he’d had a ball in Cinderella’s bed.
January 17, 2011 at 2:32 am
M A Griffiths
Certain oddness in phrasing of life,
which makes this poem individual.
“Improve it”, she said, “by removing
words duplicate; but the quaint of it
I like. Particularly of note,
I find ‘days dropped from the stalk of time’.”
Time has been running out steadfastly,
since the day she doffed her hat to me,
till she found a resting place in peace.
But I could not turn my handicap
of English not being my mother tongue
into an advantage, except that
I am still residing in her words –
all of them are still original.
(Based on one of her emails to me, over a decade ago.)
January 17, 2011 at 6:45 am
SK -thanks for this.
George