Among My Souvenirs
Connie Francis at a Howard Johnson Motor Hotel in Westbury, 1974.
Smiling where the boys are face, cherubic
and shoe-stomped, someone the night- waits for me
black bouffant into my teased, room edge limned
lavender, he backdrop creeps blue-bordered
rectangle without like a boxed- making
in room, a slip of flashed sound bare vinyl,
a long two black boot arms folded over,
an empty bag, to hold used me condom
like a squashed I slug, noticed fading green
shirt yours rumpled was as wilting red ferns,
flipped mine ice tray baby a dozen pink
nipples and out of concrete, the darkness
countless my pillow force-flung once more shards
of bottle- where glass, the boys are plastic
like someone millet, waits sown seeds for me
in the earth, who’s or dragon teeth, sorry
and the knife-boned now skeletons they spawn?
Chad Frame is not at all Italian. He earned his MFA at Arcadia University. His work has appeared in Barelhouse, decomP, Rust+Moth, Menacing Hedge, Mobius: The Journal of Social Change, and elsewhere. He is the 2017 Poet Laureate of Montgomery County, Pennsylvania, the Poetry Editor of Ovunque Siamo: New Italian-American Writing, and the founder of the MARGINS panel of minority artist voices.