When we last graced you with poems from Tammy Nuzzo-Morgan, Suffolk County’s Poet Laureate for 2009-2011, is the author of the chapbooks The Bitter, The Sweet, One Woman’s Voice, and the Pulitzer-nominated Let Me Tell You Something, they were steaming hot,  part of our Valentine’s month assortment.  Some of you may have been at the gala on March 19 for Morgan’s Long Island Poetry Archival Center (Facebook photos here). We thank Tammy, the founder and president of The North Sea Poetry Scene, Inc. and The North Sea Poetry Scene Press and editor of Long Island Sounds Anthology, for the somber poems below, which let us in about that other truth about the month that ends tomorrow: that the sunshine can illuminate what’s hardest in our lives.


APRIL IS FINALLY HERE

Go back to your poodle-dog-cage-of-an-existence.
I release you to be leased and walked by your monkey mistress.

Go back to your don’t-dare-ask for-a blow-job life.
I expel you from my I-want-no-need-it-all world.

Go back to your veggie eating-and-cigarette-smoking ways.
I vomit you out of my juicy-bloody-medium-rare-steak belly.

Go, lick the piss off the bathroom floor she leaves for you to clean.
I wash my hands of you and your I-can’t-be-free fears.

Go, crawl on your belly, be her caddy, her driver, her lackey.
I see you in morning light & the view isn’t handsome.

You desire the stick across your back, plead for the dullness of your days.
I am throwing off secrets, dwarf-ness, need for you.

Little wart frog, hop on back to your muddy pond, bury yourself, dry season is coming.
I want this lake to myself and there just isn’t room for you here anymore.

 

Visiting Hades
for Michael Jason Nuzzo
1979-1995

I will not be among you tomorrow.
I will travel to Hades, to be with him, my son.
Like Odysseus I will visit, then return, if the gods allow.
I will begin tonight, descending deeper by the minute.
No other way can we be together again for a day.
I will not be among you tomorrow.
No sunlight will be upon my skin.
No other voice but his will I seek out.
No air will stir about my face.

I will not be among you tomorrow.
I do not wish to be among the living.
I do not care to fill my lungs.
No, I do not desire to hold my body up.
I will not be among you tomorrow.
No one possesses the balm to sooth away my pain.
No one has his familiar scent.
No one has the eyes of my son, so
I will not be among you tomorrow.
I will travel to Hades, to be with him.
Like Odysseus I will visit, then return, if the gods allow.
I will begin tonight, descending deeper by the minute.
No other way can we be together again for a day.

 

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