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Table
of Contents
The
Bordighera Poetry Prize
Related
Links


Gioseffi.com
NJPoets.com
PoetsUSA.com
(Wise
Women's Web)

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MARIA
FAMA: POEMS
I
CRY ALL THE TIME | IN LOVE WITH THE
LAUNDRY
Maria
Fama is the author of three books of poetry. Her work appears
in numerous publications and has been anthologized. Fama has read
her poetry in many cities across the country, read one of her
stories on National Public Radio, and co-founded a video production
company. Her poems have won prizes. In 1998 her poem "6:35 AM"
was a finalist in the Allen Ginsberg Poetry Awards. Maria Fama
is proud of her Sicilian heritage. She lives and works in Philadelphia.
I
CRY ALL THE TIME
I
cry all the time
over photos of my father
the fine stitched dish towels of my grandmother
over catalogues of coffee makers
and small boys walking spotted dogs
I cry at the gym and the opera
at the ballgame and church
I weep over homeless persons in tattered blankets
horse drawn tourist carriages
girls jumping rope
neighbors chatting
I cry over Mozart and marching bands
the smell of rain and lemons
a street musician's lonely sax
the taste of fresh figs
I cry at the planet Venus in the morning sky
the orange moon on an August night
I weep at the open air market
over melons and peaches
the bright sight of tomatoes
a brave crab's sidewalk escape
I cry over children toting teddy bears
the feel of iron pots and paperback books
the plight of chickens, pigs, cows
pictures beamed from Rwanda, Bosnia, Mars
I cry at weddings, funerals, bookstore openings
I cry over mean spirited governments
racism, poverty, sickness
I cry over clearest blue skies
lovers holding hands
newborns, sunshine
I cry all the time
at flowers, faces, voices
elephants, tigers
sweet basil, dill
I cry all the time
I cannot tell
if I am sad, happy
or just middle aged.
IN
LOVE WITH THE LAUNDRY
She
had
Wind and Sun in a city yard
Clouds in strips against the blue
a face and hands
to hang the empty dears who
belonged in warm light
sighing like fresh bread rising
smelling of damp morning mountains and seashells
She was blown among the sheets
in love with the laundry
She sucked on clothespins
savoring their hardness
their forest fragrance
They know the ropes
She could only guess at the intimacies of
the clean white jockey shorts
innocent and forgetful on the line
She hugged the breezy unstuffed shirts
their dangling arms around her neck
and those pants
how they danced.
Copyright
© by Maria Fama. All rights reserved.
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