Mama, when you melted into the old rocker cushions
like a tapered white candle
into its holder, I had to peel

your arms from the wood arms, carefully
rolling them up and in, as I lifted you
inch by inch. You winced

when hair follicles pulled free and
stuck to the smooth oak arms. I continued
to fold. So tedious when

everything's stuck. Evenings now, I sit
in the rocker, stroking the hair on its arms
and think of how nicely I managed

the shoulders, squaring them up
with pins, tucking your elbows in
and of how my fingers pressed all

but one of the wrinkles
out of your chin. I'm glad I didn't
do as requested—you asked me

to shear the arms. You wanted a Monday coat
woven--a coat for me to wear
made of hair. As it is, any

time I like, I can sit inside your arms.
When the mood suits, I take you
down off the shelf,

untie double-knotted strings
around the JC Penney's shirt box,
shake the creases and pins

from your folds,
and am born
all over again.

This is entrancing and mysterious. But then love always is.

This is worth another trip around the block I think.
Loved these lines:

As it is, any
time I like, I can sit inside your arms.
When the mood suits, I take you
down off the shelf,



B.

This is an oldie!  And just goes to show the huge differences among readers.  In '98 or thereabouts I submitted this with two other poems to the Stanford Poetry Prize.  The prize place was $10,000 and Marge Piercy was one of the judges.  I didn't win, but I still have a handwritten letter from Piercy that goes something like "Although Monday Coat did not place in the money, it was very close." and some other kind words. 

What I mean is, not everyone enjoys the same style or tone, subject matter, or even layout of a particular poem.  Piercy must have liked the surreal, or maybe just the subject of "mother" [she's written of moms a great dea, has a book, My Mother's Body ...].  But it did me wonders to receive that note from her. 

Thanks for bringing her back around, this Monday Coat.

L.   

My pleasure Lynn. Good to read this again this morning.

This was completely missed. It's a pick for sure and no doubt it earned a comment from Piercy. Given its history, do you need the last S to be that pronounced with 'born'? what if some simpler as if slipping into its arms, again? Quite a find there, Brian...

larry

Thank you, Lynn. Well done.


Tomas



 

Right, I think we even change our opinions about our own poems.  I find that somedays I like them, some days I don't.  For some reason, it is that very flipflopping that keeps me from going for the prize. 

Well done on this. I'm afraid it may have been posted during one of my hibernation periods, but I see that some worthy eyes saw its merit. 

D