Home prepares the dictator.
He conquers the hardware business,
makes a killing
in Minot.
Locals applaud the tyrant in the garage
polishing the dreaded clippers.

Jennifer and Mary Alice

Mary Alice says Jennifer
should've married Mr. Gumm
in 51--"then you'd be happy."
Closed porch windows
on an August afternoon--
"stiff, stiff, stiff,"
says Mary Alice about knees,
Sunday's sermon,
amontillado.

Jennifer knows, doesn't mention
Mary Alice's dead husband,
her three stillborns,
1947. Sometimes shade falls
between them. They drink
iced tea in Yogi Bear

glasses. Dahlias wash
against the drainpipe,

red waves. On the porch
the prairie vanishes
along a teapot's spout.
A basket

of photographs in Jennifer's lap:
two young women, arm in arm.
Jennifer shows that one
to Mary Alice
who bites a macaroon,
twists her yellow napkin.

Tribute to Fester

He puts a light bulb
in his mouth
and makes it light.

Hail to you, Uncle Fester!

If only we would
give off as much light
as you. If only

we wouldn't laugh at those
who make it possible to see
in a dark house.

Copyright © 2000 by Kenneth Pobo

About the Poet

Kenneth Pobo grew up in Illinois. He likes sixties pop music and gardening. His work appears in: INDIANA REVIEW, ORBIS, THE FIDDLEHEAD, SOUTHERN OCEAN REVIEW, FORPOETRY, and elsewhere. In 1998, Palanquin Press published his chapbook called CICADAS IN THE APPLE TREE.

E-Mail: kgpobo@enter.net

Copyright © 2000-2001 by Denis M. Garrison.