Tuesday, September 18, 2012

A LITTLE WHIP by (me!) sandra, tvgp



my poetry is in place! -thank you to cher wollard, poet laureate of livermore: "...there are 16 poems and essays by local writers about places in downtown livermore displayed on their respective windows or inside various businesses, restaurants, shops through april 30th. here is my contribution, hope you enjoy:

a little whip ~by sandra kay

do what the sign says

STOP

at first and k.

when you find gold! -walls and green awnings; you're at panama red.

it's the perfect blend

of locals, and newbies, and just passin' thru~bies

all bringin' their thirsts to the king.

stand in line below the floating chips
on the glass dessert case; leave your fingerprints

then move left to write
play the menu game

pay, leave a tip. -then wait for your name.

i spy 2 newspapers, 3 cell phones, 1 dad
6 laptops, a stroller and the nose piercing fad

mostly casual, ultra cool
tattoos, flip flops, t-shirts rule

if the waits too long, play the photo wall game
put a name to each face, a face to each name

you can flirt if you're single, you can slurp if you're not
you can eat, you can drink, buy it cold, take it hot

if the windows are missing from the giant wood panes
you can be inside or outside, at the same time

or sit under a hut, like you're really not here

or,

like there's no place you'd rather be

than hangin' out at panama red
with friends, with strangers, with me

and on your way out, see the rising star
that sexy young thing, with a mic and guitar

on the corner of first
on the corner of k

in downtown, in livermore
in the east bay

this is my treasure map to happiness

by car, by foot, not ship

but to find your way to my happiness

you must add a little whip.

4 Comments:

At 3:25 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Great job Sandra, as usual.

Your friend,
MM

 
At 8:03 AM, Blogger she said...

mr motown: "thank you!"

& put on your dancin' shoes...

 
At 11:06 AM, Anonymous dad said...

HE DID NOT LIKE MY CASSEROLE HE DID NOT LIKE MY CAKE MY BISCUITS WERE NOT LIKE HIS MOTHER USED TO MAKE. I DID NOT MAKE HIS COFFEE ROGHT HE DID NOT LIKE MY STEW I DID NOT MEND HIS SOCKS LIKE HIS MOTHER USED TO DO I PONDERED FOR AN ANSWER I WAS LOOKING FOR A CLUE SO I TURNED AROUND AND SMAKED LIKE HIS MOTHER USED TO DO

 
At 1:42 PM, Blogger she said...

Original post 04/27/2010. On site in Livermore today... Memory triggered.

 

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