March 23, 2010
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Our neighbors, the Pazzotis, live in a long
narrow canary-yellow house with Mrs. Pazzotti’s old
father, their 2 daughters, their husbands, 4 kids,
a tortoise shell cat and a white poodle.
Their yard is my childhood dream: toys,
bicycles, tubs, bird cages, barbeques, planters, pails, tools
and garden sculptures: an orange squirrel eating a nut,
Mickey Mouse pushing a wheelbarrow, St. Joseph
carrying a lantern, his other blessing hand
broken at the wrist, and two tea-sipping toads
in an S-shaped love seat, smiling at each other
under a polka-dotted parasol.
On the yellow railing around the deck,
a procession of nine pinwheels. This May morning,
they thrash the air with each breeze like clumsy
angels nailed to their posts. On the garage wall
at the end of the yard an electric cord
shoots up to the roof. One half connects to a blue
neon insect electrocuter, the other half snakes to, then
disappears into a pedestal cemented on the cornice.
And there she stands, in plastic
beatitude—and six feet of it—the Madonna,
in her white robe and blue cape, arms
outstretched, blessing the Pazottis, their yard
and neighbors, lit from within day and night,
calling God’s little insects to her shining light,
before sending them straight
to the zapper—tiny buzzing heretics
fried by the same power that lured them
to their last temptation.“Plastic Beatitude” by Laure-Anne Bosselaar, from The Hour Between Dog and Wolf. © BOA Editions, Ltd, 1997
I love this poem. I love the description of a yard that only a kid could love. (Which is the same as saying a yard that only an adult would condemn.) And I love the image of the flapping of the wings of the angels who can’t move.
But I especially love the image of the plastic, dim-lit Madonna and the irony of the seductive alluring of her for the insects for a “blessing” only to be sent to an electrified hell in the zapper. And I thought the picture of the alluring Madonna as the Playboy cover was appropriate. For we all know that all Playboy readers are damned to a hell of some kind for following their base desires. (smile)
Comments (11)
I would like to walk around and sit for a spell in a yard like this, sans bug zapper please. Thnaks for posting it.
Have I mentioned how intimidating your pics of women are for us regular lookin’ kind of women? Not to mention your profile pic, haha.
@llibra - Why wouldn’t you think that the picture of the male in my profile also intimidates us “regular lookin’ kind of” men? My intention isn’t to be comparative of one’s beauty, but rather to add a dash of sensuality. And sensuality can be appreciated by us “regulars” as well as the beautiful.
Beautiful poem with such a vivid imagery. Too bad the zapper was there.
@curiousdwk - I do think that. And ok, sensual is good too, ’tis a human thing, and now that I think about ’tis an everythiing kind of thing, so better yet.
@llibra - One of my missions in life is to try to get people to recognize a distinction between sensuous and sexual and not always treat them the same. But that’s a real challenge with religious wing-nuts.
@curiousdwk - it is difficult to teach people who don’t want to learn. sometimes the caress of a held hand can be much more sensual than sex
i can see that back yard. id love to lay out on the grass with a blanket and some weed and just chill and soak in the feeling. as for the zapper, it horiffic! i cant stand those things. i think its cruel.
muah!
ps how about a site update?
@llibra - Bingo
Impressive poem, very descriptive too!
@RestlessButterfly - Thanks. As you can see, just like your post with the ironies, I also enjoy irony.
Now for a picture of a sexy insect.
(I did mention Miss Piggy in my blog today. Somehow it’s not the same thing.)
This was a great read, as always.