Playland at the Beach

Playland at the Beach

side rail skee-ball
25c in the coin rack
send the wood ball into the center pocket
200 center hole points
scores a ticket

Sal casts an edgy spell
over the centrifugal force disc go round
rockets kids flying onto the floor
slam,bang,ouch

Sal cackles & calls us
up into the fun house
across a steel bridge
where we are blasted from below
by air shots
that lift shirts & skirts
to show skin bared to all

& the herkum jerkum wild mouse
left our bodies sore
from knees slapped against steel encasements
& necks snapped backward against sheet metal

side rail skee-ball ate all our quarters by now
& that leaves laughing Sal laughing at us boys
left holding only bright purple fuzzy snakes
even our little sisters don’t want

homing devices

i wish for ribbons in a robin nest

something cozy, before the wind howled.

some place subtle, some place blessed

scooched in close, safe from scowl.

certain raft in cedar, incensed

by wood not ire. neither foul

nor rancid fleshed, peaceful sense

of home. less growl, more owl;

less jowl and teeth, more pal and fleece

less crawl and grief, more valley and motif.

less gall and more belief

less mal, more green leaf.

these are the blessings the waifs did seek

even child ghosts search for succor and relief.

coming to the window of years-long house:

to this day, we leave dishes of milk.

Baba & Zeda’s morning kitchen

asleep on arrival
and carried as luggage
in through the side door,
passing though a kitchen’s promise
during a dream of loud kisses

waking late to a yellowing day,
that smells like Saint Louis
always will: Baba and Zeda,
furniture with a generation
of living, layers of boiled coffee,
and now fresh-made waffles

in the house’s heart,
sun coming in,
dining room going out,
pantry storing downstairs,
laundry chute behind the walls,
and in the window, something
that doesn’t have a name:

curve-cut wood
that frames the light
into a design
I’ve never seen before
or since, the sign
of make it nice,
hold fast, make due,
rain or snow,
catch this prism of
I love you

my mother took us to this cool park  where I (seen here) am playing on a stagecoach

IMUNURI prompt: a place you loved as a child

This week, write a poem or a short prose piece or draw a picture inspired by memories of a place you loved as a child.


Keywords: poem, childplace, your name