bio
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Aire Celeste Norell's work has appeared in The Blue House, Matrix (Germany), and San Gabriel Valley Poetry Quarterly. She has been anthologized in Literary Angles: The Second Year of poeticdiversity (2005, Sybaritic Press) and The Other Side of Sorrow: Poets Speak Out about Conflict, War, and Peace (2006, Poetry Society of New Hampshire).
In 2004 she put together her first poetry chapbook, The Ugly Duckling & Other American Tragedies. In the same year, she edited and published an anthology (on tree-free paper using soy ink) of environmental poetry, Cracked Pavement & Plastic Trees: Our Gifts To Future Generations.
Aire has been a featured performer at a number of poetry readings and other venues across L.A. and Orange County. She is also guilty of compulsively organizing poetry/music/dance events for good causes. Her day job is tutoring "low income, at risk" youth.
For information about her upcoming scheduled appearances, as well as to read more of her work, please visit her website.
www.aireceleste.com
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Matchmaker |
Your chest (like that of other large-breasted women) is public property
Even gay-boys seek comfort there
Primly resting their heads on your cleavage
You excel in fixing people up
Healing the damaged
Connecting the timid
Your personal experiment has gone horribly awry
For I have infiltrated your life
An extra plate of cheese omelet, grits, sausage and toast
A tag-a-long on family gatherings
A passenger while you drive
A homework helper for your son
A go-between when you’re not speaking to him
Your Malibu Barbie
Your project—
“I’m everything I am, because you love me…”
Your plumpening, been-together-five-years-but-not-living-together girlfriend
You pick out the thirds and fourths
You know my tastes but you’re afraid to indulge them
Never foreseeing a future for us—no matter how many times I tell you
You are the most beautiful woman in the world
You need to get your plumbing cleaned out at least once a year
That’s practically monogamous!
I can be there, but it has to happen
Your son waits for a parent who will play Legos with him
Who will talk in silly voices
Who will rough-house
But you told him never to touch girls so he flinches when my hand
Presses his shoulder
And we compete for cuddling because you will not let him see us holding hands
If only he were old enough, he could take my place
Next to you at the bar, waiting and drinking while you fix people up
copyright 2005
Aire Celeste Norell |
