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, Let Me Tell You Something and For Michael. In 2006 she was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for Let Me Tell You Something. She is the founder and president of The North Sea Poetry Scene, Inc. and The North Sea Poetry Scene Press, and edited Long Island Sounds Anthology.

I am not the coca cola girl,
the Cheez-It tidbit waiting for you to taste,
the limo ride to the Yankee’s game,
the wrangler jeans chick baking in the New Mexico sun,
and I never was or will be Sunday mornings in spring.

 I am the time-ticking-away second hand,
the flat tire on the side of the road,
the too high door jam,
the worn-out tooth brush,
the 59 cents in the ashtray,
the Lunch Poems dog-eared book,
and the who never forgets to tell the truth.

Maybe Someday I Will Get It Right

I forgot to close the window near the book case and bring in the cat and roll up the windows in the faded green clunker I call my car in the oil-stained drive, and get the flashlight new batteries, just in case of another week-long blackout, and fill a few gallons of water and let out the dog before it came down in sheets. I forgot to tell you I need you. I forgot to cut back the Montauk daises and cover the pool and store away the grill and pack away the lounge cushions, the ones with white and blue stripes, the ones you hate and the ones I love, and crank down the squeaky brown picnic table umbrella, the one the yellow jackets seem drawn to, and put Michael’s school project Adirondack chair into the shed before the leaves were done falling and walking became a trick we both watched to see if the other could do. I forgot to tell you I want you. I forgot to salt the drive and put the shovels near the front door, and get the winter clothes, including the scarves I crocheted with brown and orange yarn, and the sweat shirts; the ones we got from the Giants game in 1998, and the boots that I swear I am tossing out each spring before the blizzard hit our home like a tidal wave. I forgot tell you I love you. I forgot. I forgot. I forgot. I forgot to fill the bird feeder and plant the red tulip bulbs, and lime the lawn and put a fresh coat of paint on the mailbox and hose off the screens, leaning them against the wooden shingles of our single story home, just as my mother had and her mother had before her, and put the house plants out for air before the robins arrived to pull worms up from their slumber. I forgot to tell you how I pray. I forgot to tell you I remember August 31st . I forgot to tell you I was wrong. I forgot to leave the porch light on, just in case you return.

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  • Tammy Nuzzo-Morgan May 21, 2010 at 8:04 pm

    I want to thank Laura for this opportunity to be showcased here on this much-needed website concerned with Women’s Voices for Change!!
    Tammy Jean