My Wife Says—
by Shahé Mankerian
In your poems, you remember the kiss
your mother gave you under a loquat tree.
Pressed between stanzas, a blind dog
hides in the residue of a demitasse.
In the melted snow of Mount Ararat,
you always trace the face of God.
You’d rather describe death by skewers
in the sewers of Beirut than kiss me
in a steamy sonnet beneath the stained-
glass gown of the Virgin. I don’t need
morning walks on Champs-Élysées
or a blue heart pendant from Tiffany’s.
My needs are minimal like a haiku.
I’m still waiting for a poem, a pristine plum,
like the kind William Carlos Williams
stole from the fridge—so sweet and cold.
PAINTING: Plum Blossoms and Moon by Katshushika Hokusai (1803).
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I’ve always loved and admired Charles Bukowski’s poem “one for old snaggle-tooth.” It’s an exquisitely vulnerable love poem dedicated to FrancEyE, the mother of Bukowski’s only child. The poem I wrote is dedicated to the woman I love who reminds me periodically that I no longer write her poems. The prompt “I am still waiting…” coupled with Bukowski’s inspirational verse provided me with a poem of redemption, a long overdue birthday gift to my wife.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Poet Shahé Mankerian is the principal of St. Gregory Hovsepian School in Pasadena, California. He is on the board of the International Armenian Literary Alliance (IALA). His debut poetry collection, History of Forgetfulness, will be published by Fly on the Wall Press in October 2021.
Reblogged this on dean ramser.
Dr. Ramser, I hope you’re doing well. It’s been a long time…
I love the title…My Wife Says. It drew me in with its thematic potential for every husband-poet. I expected something clever and funny. What I got were perfect metaphors and similes that kicked my ass–so sweet and cold. I’ll be buying your book, Sir.
I’m glad this poem resonated with you. It’s reassuring.
Loved your ending, especially!
Thank you, Mary. It means a lot coming from another poet.
I enjoyed this poem mightily. Thank you for sharing.
“My needs are minimal like a haiku.
I’m still waiting for a poem, a pristine plum,
like the kind William Carlos Williams
stole from the fridge—so sweet and cold.”
Yes!
Thank you, Rose Mary Boehm. What a wonderful last name.
I’m so glad you gave her one!! And a lovely one it is!
Thank you.
Gorgeous poem, from beginning to end. I’m so glad I got to read it. I will look forward to seeing your poetry collection.
Thank you, Yvonne, for your generous words.