I read four of my poems at Brickstreet last Thursday night ...

I rarely read at open mic, but this night thought I would go prepared just in case the Universe moved me. On my way out the door,  I grabbed 2 poetry books, one magazine, and printed off the fourth poem I wanted to read. It was published in Indiana Voice, an online journal owned by the guest poet. I met him for the first time and thanked him for publishing three of my poems last October.

I hadn't realized a poem for each miniature schnauzer had been published within the last year until I chose what was quickest to take to read. Since I pride myself on being fair always with my canine family members (I abhor partiality in families), it was a nice  serendipitous moment.

Early Morning Manna at Grandma’s

Published in May/June Branches Magazine

Grandma greeted the sun’s first peek through curtains

while the household slept. Her biscuits appeared

on the breakfast table as the men sat to eat.

I loved the fresh-baked aroma wafting

from her wood-burning stove.

Butter churned from fresh sweet cream, skimmed

from Grandpa’s dairy,

dripped out corners of mouths

after biting into the warm chewiness

of one, then another.

Imitating Uncle Gray, I swirled butter into molasses,

spread a dollop before each bite.

When finished, the men got up. Left. No one uttered:

Thank you. Delicious. Please excuse.

Then Grandma fixed her plate and ate …

… the only time I saw Grandma eat.

Later, she dish-toweled the biscuit platter,

refrigerated sides, milk, and meat. After supper,

the little and quite large piggies feasted

on her biscuits in their pen,

along with leftovers scraped from plates

and serving bowls—not seen again.

At home we ate a prefab version popped out

of cardboard tubes, buttered with plastic-tasting oleo.
No one begged for seconds.

© 2017 Denise C. Buschmann

           

Standoff

       ... for Coco

Published in Paw Prints in Verse, April 2017

Coco self-advocates—quick

repeated rounds at the fence

—caked in mud up to knees,

black as Little Debbie’s.

Hattie’s a tank—

brown furry tail held

high—striking back

in short-bursts.

Noses separated by chain links

and two feet,

each firing blanks

at the other,

neither giving

eye contact nor quarter.

© 2017 Denise C. Buschmann

Breakfast Dance

Dedicated to Cupcake

Published in Words & Other Wild Things, November 2016

persnickety schnauzer

sniffs, circles, investigates

scrutinizes, procrastinates

eating her food.

she wants a treat

but first must eat

breakfast in her bowl.

© 2016 Denise C. Buschmann

Worth by Different Standards

Published in Indiana Voice, October 2016

The actress wore

her perky,

finely chiseled nose,

as an accessory—

in her profession

a necessity.

But, what if

we were who we are

without pretentions

without fear

of rejection by peers

clanging in our ears?

What if

we enlarged hearts

not breasts

and painted others’

praises instead of nails

weighing accomplishments
on altruistic scales?

What if we dared?

© 2016 Denise C. Buschmann

“All I ask of our brethren is, that they will take their feet from off our necks and permit us to stand upright on that ground which God destined us to occupy." Sarah Grimke's Letters on the Equality of the Sexes and the Condition of Woman (1838)