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FURTHER READING
Poems by Farrah Field
Amy Check On My Square Inch of Land
Intensities of Emphasis and Wonder
Essays by Farrah Field
My Cat George
Poems About Friendship
After the Movie
by Marie Howe
Book Loaned to Tom Andrews
by Bobby C. Rogers
Dear Friends
by Edwin Arlington Robinson
For N & K
by Gina Myers
Friend
by Jean Valentine
From the Lives of My Friends
by Michael Dickman
Heaven for Helen
by Mark Doty
Heaven for Stanley
by Mark Doty
How I Am
by Jason Shinder
Mending Wall
by Robert Frost
On Gifts For Grace
by Bernadette Mayer
sisters
by Lucille Clifton
Skunk Hour
by Robert Lowell
Song of Myself, X
by Walt Whitman
Stanzas in Meditation
by Gertrude Stein
The Armadillo
by Elizabeth Bishop
The Soul unto itself (683)
by Emily Dickinson
This Lime Tree Bower My Prison
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
To a Friend who sent me some Roses
by John Keats
To Thomas Moore
by George Gordon Byron
Travelling
by William Wordsworth
We Have Been Friends Together
by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
You & I Belong in This Kitchen
by Juan Felipe Herrera
Your Catfish Friend
by Richard Brautigan
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Blue Is Beautiful Amy but the Story Is So the '90s

 
by Farrah Field

I wanted to be the one who thought of truck bed walls.
You locked yourself in the bathroom
so I couldn’t brush my teeth before bed.
Where is this going and will it be successful? I hate bullies.
She’s been everywhere she even heard
the shot that killed John Lennon.
From now on I’m sticking up
for myself. My notes and to-do’s have flowers.
I don’t want to die. I feel scared all the time.
What you looked like as a child is clear.
The way you run from the hot tub
and throw yourself in the pool.
When they were joining the EU.
I worry about mine.
Have you ever seen your own cervix?
You’re like a natural matzoh ball maker.
Why did I ever want to be in the couple
with the white walls three shoes and lots of art.
Scarves from museum shops.
I sat your kid on my counter
and we spilled food everywhere.
The nickname grandchildren give is the one you die with.
Everyone wanted to see a movie where the woman turns to stone.
They say Maria Falconetti never acted again.
The gym was impossible after I fell on my knee.
I walked up to you and cried.
Why do you treat your son better than your daughter.
Talk about something else like did anyone ever call you bro.
About this poem:

"In response to Krzysztof Kieslowski's film Blue, I wonder why Juliette Binoche's character doesn't finish her masterpiece with the help of a woman. Why does she have to have a lover? I mean sexual release is necessary, I get it, but what if an empathetic female friend broke through the grief? I consider this—women needing women—in my poem. Sadly, I couldn't think of a nickname I like that only women give each other, such as 'bro,' which many guys I knew in the '90s were calling each other."

—Farrah Field






Copyright © 2013 by Farrah Field. Used with permission of the author. This poem appeared in Poem-A-Day on July 31, 2013. Browse the Poem-A-Day archive.
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