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Poetry #99
(published September 12, 2002)
by Marcy Jarvis

Rabbit-foot clover (*)
Your tricky bristles
hide the flower.
You have drunken bees
nibbling your neck.

Purple rocket ~<>
With your heart shaped leaves clasping
and erect sepals;
I lay down with you
in these rich woods.

Ground plum (*)
with your rolled-back edges widespread —
I adhere;
you poison me.

Flower-of-an-hour ~<>
out of Africa;
spurt seeds from cells
across Canadian marshes.

Meadow-queen (*)
You grace our prairies
in pink panicled petticoats;
blush at our foolishness
as we trample you beneath our oafish feet.

Bull Thistle ~<>
Vulgar and aggressive
like the Scottish highlander you are —
heads one to many;
what red-blooded maid can resist?

Pussy's-toes (*)
So silky.
Your pappus rings the thickened tip
of the male, yet your disks don't chaff.
No wonder you're rarely single.

Dwarf Dandelion ~<>
Milky juice flows through your stem.
When you go to seed
I'll blow your head off
and make a wish.

Fleabane (*)
Daisy-like with narrow rays —
Sometimes you're yellow
and other times pink,
and sometimes you're just an unattractive weed.

Clammy Cudweed ~<>
Lamb's ears have nothing on you —
you wooly herb.
I take wing
along your glandular stem.

Evening Primrose (*)
You open at sunset —
a rosette wide,
fading to reddish upon the desert;
they call you hoary.

Boneset ~<>
Your stems are colonial
which is fitting in more ways than one;
lads of yore who fell from the trees
were thankful for your healing properties.

Passion Flower (*)
Climb, tendriling vine —
feel your way through the open woods
and old fields;
we feed upon your Maypops.

Star Thistle ~<>
Blue! I love you Blue
Centaurea —
cry of blue when I prick my finger
on your bristly disk.

Meadow Beauty (*)
Hot pink enchantress,
perched upon your waving wands
in the grassy savannas
where wild bucks graze.

Puncture Vine ~<>
Zigzagging stems
spreading from a central root —
your flowers are lonely
yielding up stout spined fruits in the sands.

Jewel Weed (*)
Full to the brim with watery juice,
you fly off the handle
at the slightest caress —
sighing mournfully.

Spurge Nettle ~<>
All stinging hairs and horned glands —
your flowers go either way.
Your genus is huge
but mostly weedy.

Janusia (*)
Only one species —
a wiry twiner;
you are self fertilizing and simple,
like me.

Floret: 1. A reduced flower. 2. A dense head.

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Poor Mojo's Tip Jar:

The Next Poetry piece (from Issue #100):

Caruso Sings Santa Lucia
by Barry Blumenfeld

The Last few Poetry pieces (from Issues #98 thru #94):

In a Studio on Perkins
by Matthew Wascovich

Third In Three Days
by Paul Hardacre

Charon To Make-Up
by Paul Hardacre

The Beetling Rocks
by Paul Hardacre

by Marcy Jarvis

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