Kathleen A. Lawrence
Five Abecedarians
Mingle
—abecedarian
Albeit
betrothed,
cads
digitize
eHarmony,
fishing
girls.
Hook-ups
imitate
JDates
Kindle-ing
LIKES.
Match.com
neophytes
OkCupid
passion
queens.
Rapid-firing
swipes
Tinder
unanimous
virgins
waiting
X-tian
youth.
Zoosk!
Male Gaze
—abecedarian
Angling
bros
cavort
determined,
emboldened,
fixing
gaze.
Highly
impressionable
Joes
keenly
learn
machismo.
Nettlesome
oafs
perverse
quotients,
replenishing
sexism.
Tongues
urge
veracious
wagging.
‘Xuberantly,
yang/yin
zygotes.
Breasts and Below
—abecedarian
Apple-round
bountiful
C-cups
dish
elegant
fragrances.
Goosebumps
hide
inside
jittery
knickers.
Leaded-crystal,
martini-glass
nipples
opaquely
pressed like
quaint
raisins.
Silky,
thundering,
unbridled,
violet
waterfalls
exceed
yards of
zenith.
Muscle Men
—abecedarian
Anxious, ass-
bare, buff,
chiseled chest
defies density.
Eagerly exposed,
fantastically fake,
gargantuan gargoyles,
hurly-burly, hunchbacks
imbibing in
jolty juices.
Kneading knots,
leathery ligaments,
mountainous muscles
newly nourished,
obnoxiously oiled,
pumping pecs.
Quickly quartered,
raised rock-
solid, shredded,
tanning-bed-tanned and toned,
underwear uniform,
vigorously vitamined.
Wide-eyed wimpy
XX examiners
yell, “Yo,
zamos zack!”
Music Menu
—double abecedarian
Apple pie is like jazz,
But peach cobbler is country.
Coffee beans are my aubade, strong aroma, AM radio fix.
Dirty rice, my bluegrass wow.
Electronica scatters notes like puns spatter improv.
Folk feels like peanuts in the shell, salty and impromptu.
Green apples are my “body electric” fruit.
Home is all purples, lavender and lilac singing the blues.
Irises swing in glorious eggplant robes, my gospel choir.
Juicy Zoloft-sized raisins soothe me like a tranq.
Kumquats tingle, effervescently fizzing like pop.
Legumes I eat carefully and seldom, like techno,
Mostly while craving a familiar musical cinnamon bun.
Nose pinned, I nibble navy beans, trying not to look glum.
Olives are steadfast and necessary like classical.
Peanut butter is snappy punk with chocolate rock.
Quiet psychedelic music swirls the pools that frame the Taj.
Rap is best with a frozen margarita in a limo jacuzzi.
Sweet tea, my tradition, my standard, my Souza march.
Toasted cheese, buttery and smiling like soul songs, smooth and big.
Ukuleles bring the islands as piña coladas cool me off.
Victrola tone arms skim the notes of big band, swing dance,
While grandkids eat pizza to a garage band,
eXpecting dessert’s fireworks to shimmer and arc.
You’ve got to leave room for whipped cream and strawberry rhubarb.
Zydeco nightcaps end the evening with Dr. Pepper and vodka.
Kathleen A. Lawrence is a fairly new poet. She especially likes the challenge of the abecedarian and has focused most of her poetry-writing efforts on this form. The series above constitutes Kathleen’s first poetry publication. She is an associate professor of communications studies at the State University of New York (SUNY), Cortland, and has served as Multicultural and Gender Studies Director and as Coordinator of Women’s Studies. Her publications to date have been in academic and scholarly venues, including the articles “The Barbeque on the Mount” (Corporate Advocacy, 1996), “Government as Plausibility Base: The Tactical Interpretation of Violence” (World Communication, 1991), and “New Barbie May Not Shape Up” (The New York Daily News, 1997).
These poems are not previously published.