Poetry by Luanne Castle

                       Holly Lay CC



Into Pulp

Lakewater pushes at my ankles
toes slicing an evanescent path
I’m at an age where I think I’m at the age
and I don’t imagine eyerolls
where I sense time abrading my surface
like this constantly moving water
stones and minnows distort into segments
molecules into a variety of atomic individuals
two purple, no, one hairbrush, a plastic ball
a swaying branch, leaves decaying
the insides of my grandmothers’ fridges
bubble and pop into shards of memory
dangerous to the touch though I do still see
one packed and one bare but for
spoiled milk and insulin bottles.
Even if I don’t move the water sways
so I feel it undulating a vintage possibly
familiar scene, aluminum-sided
backdrop with foundation plantings trimmed
with lattice, a lawn to mow, a couple
long since gone, he a Great War vet
You can see--I can see--she has to make all 
the decisions for them, crisp in
white polyester pants, a painted
smile, though it’s hard to be sure through
the water’s movement over and back
it’s been so long since I’ve seen these two
perhaps we have known each other
somewhere as the edges of time
have curled; if I haul memory from this grave
the transmigration into pulp continues
 



Scrap

A scrappy boy fuses
himself a father out of wants
Out of the gritty street pavement
Out of throwing away the hurt
Out of fighting and scraping
punching cracks and potholes
Scrapyard salvage appeals to him
Each scrap reveals a system
Steel gears, bolts, and bushings
rake heads, trowels, posts
wire aluminum and copper, tin
everything, brass hinges, fittings
he rearranges and solders into
magical monstrosities 

My father was scraps of before
initials instead of names
his father before him scraps 
of place and name, the secret
middle name shared under 
its double-locked hiding place
What do I do with a sack of bits
his mother’s scissors left behind? 
Love’s been stitched into me 
by her threaded tongue 
By the snips and wisp
The junk or trash, recyclable
material, remnants, fragments
Puzzle pieces awaiting home
​

​

Luanne Castle's Kin Types (Finishing Line), a chapbook of poetry and flash nonfiction, was a finalist for the 2018 Eric Hoffer Award. Her first poetry collection, Doll God (Aldrich), was winner of the 2015 New Mexico-Arizona Book Award. A Pushcart and Best of the Net nominee, she studied at University of California, Riverside (PhD); Western Michigan University (MFA); and Stanford University. Her writing has appeared in Copper Nickel, TAB, Glass, Verse Daily, American Journal of Poetry, Broad Street, and other journals. 

---