Three Poems

Mary MacGowan

With Every Musical Instrument 

I click on the lesson "Raw Beginner."
We're learning harmonica.
Our first task is learning the pucker.
If you pucker correctly, you should hear
only one note. Well, not exactly. 
It's more like blowing big empty air
into the Grand Canyon. 
But after a while it happens, that holy O 
of a pucker works. Well, we're all looking
for ways to fill our days in these coronavirus
times. And now, sore lips and tongue. 
With every musical instrument, a little pain.
A cello's shoulder, a violin's neck,
a trumpet's lips. The ways we bend 

ourselves to make the world beautiful.

---

The Road That Makes No Sense

Bailey and I are walking 
on a path with hoof marks
and globs of earth overturned. 
We stumble along, not noticing
until it ends. Where are we? 
On the road that makes no sense,
I stop a car to ask for help. They
open a window, and then, afraid 
I'll stand too close, roll it back up.
We're all so scared. The path, 
I say through the glass,
ended here. How do I get back?

---

Video at 11

She runs at the door
slamming
against it. Bam! Bam! 
Bam!!!
The people inside waiting 
for the police,
are filming from behind a window.
They're worried, 
yelling, laughing. She's pissed.

She licks and smears
her lipsticked mouth
on the glass. Her long
and pointy tongue.
Eeeews! are heard from inside.

She runs at the door 
in one last effort that knocks her
over, and she slumps
against a wall. She tries 
to stand, staggers, a barrette 

falls soundlessly
to the sidewalk.
She solemnly holds 
her hands out
for the handcuffs, 
which arrive just in time 
to save her from 

gouging out her eyes.

---

Mary MacGowan has had over 60 poems placed in literary journals and her chapbook, Spider Lake, was released by Kattywompus Press in 2019.
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