Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Tuesday Poem: On Not Being Charles Lindbergh

On Not Being Charles Lindbergh

Snow on the ground
cold outlines the curves of our thighs
making love with socks on
thinking about
Charles Nunsegger and Francois Coli
missing over the Atlantic
with ten days’ supply
of caviar and bananas.


I've been a bit slack lately about sending out requests for permission to use poems - so one of my own again today. I really need to get those requests going as I'm running short.
This is an odd wee piece which was included in Flap: The Chookbook 2. Yes, it's a winter poem really, and it's not winter here, but never mind.

I received some newspaper clippings from the Wyoming State Library regarding the obituary of my greatgrandfather's brother who emigrated to Cheyenne, Wyoming from Scotland and died in 1927. On the same page was a fragment of an article about two missing French aviators, so out of curiosity I looked them up on google and found that they had tried to cross the Atlantic a few weeks before Charles Lindbergh made a successful crossing. They were never found. So this poem celebrates those who tried and failed, the unremembered, the also rans.

(You can purchase Flap online at Fishpond by following the link above).

For more Tuesday poems visit the main hub site and check out all the links in the sidebar.


AJ Ponder said...

I love the title.

Such a cute little poem. Cheers, and congratulations for posting one of your own - but I totally understand its so hard to keep up.

penelope said...

Caviar and bananas: how cool is that? Cooler than socks, I'd say! Thanks for this curvy little poem, Catherine.

Helen Lowe said...

I like the 'odd' juxtapositions of this wee poem: making love with socks on, missing aviators and caviar and bananas. :)