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April Pittman

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Member Since: Before 2003

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Poppy Seeds
by April Pittman

Thursday, August 22, 2002

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Recent poems by April Pittman
•  Tabula rasa
•  Isochronal
•  My Last Mistake
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•  All Gone
           >> View all 212

do I not move you
baby boy
where did your youth go
she chewed it in her maw
and spit it between the strings
of her guitar
it lacked that certain
"twang"
that only heartbreak could bring
poppy seeds scattered
across a broken and dirty floor
where did the love go
left down the lane
on market square
paths burrowed beneath your feet
carrying you to her
over and over again
she's a heartbreaker
lacking that certain appeal
love, is a broken guitar
is an old vw micro
is a name and a world
that will never again exist
poppy seeds
forgotton by a broken past.

these.precious.things
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Reviewed by Tova Gabrielle 8/26/2002
I like this very much. The image of the broken guitar string resonates very much with my own personal experience, particular to motherhood and timely to my own sudden empty nest. In other words, this piece captures truth about relationships and loss, regardless of the intended context. it is bigger than itself, somehow. thanks.
Reviewed by E T Waldron 8/22/2002
Very graphic...well said!
Reviewed by jude forese 8/22/2002
you can easily move whatever you desire to...
Reviewed by Mitzi Jackson 8/22/2002
nice form.....liked it much
"poppy seed"...this really good
Reviewed by Alexander Shaumyan (Reader) 8/22/2002
Of course you move me, April. Love your poems. :) To hell with guitars, give me a balalaika. Love, Alex
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