JUDITH CAMANN

★ ★ ★ ★

POETRY

Sometimes My Head Hurts

His rules, like the faded brown
naugahyde lazy-boy, water-ringed

coffee table & buzzing
refrigerator, match his
needs and fodder.

He shows the hand
he’s dealt;
a royal full house
inhabited by the one-eyed jack.

His secret rules

untwist through his
hands.  They change in his full house
of royal secrets.

His grip
draining & restraining &
regaining &

he                        beats                  me.

He beats me to the royal door in
his house of hide and seek.

He beats me at his game
“pick a hand to learn the secret.”

He beats me up
the twisted stairs.

His royal masks of
jack-the-knife, jack-the-

ripper, jack-in-the-box goes
up the bean stalk, jack-beats-jill-up

his hill.

Toora, loora, loora
Toora, loora, li
Toora, loora, loora
Hush, now, don’t you cry

A waxing moon sends
arrows of sun light across
the poppies from the burnt lavender sky.

While in the not so far off distance
left of the whip-o-wills
after the katydid’s shrill
another fuckless whore lost
in memories and fists
drifts on cracked and stained gossamer
wings is self-consoled in a faded
lullaby our mama used to
sing to us from a
darkened doorway.

Toora, loora, loora
Toora, loora, li
Toora, loora, loora
It’s an Irish lullaby.

Falsified

Seven stars in
the sky, one nine-eleven
call, eight police officers.  Five knocks
on the door, thirteen
steps to respond, three deep breaths to recover.

Forty-nine minutes searching
Ma’am do you own a weapon? Is anyone
else in the house? Please hold
out your hands. Now turn
them over. Again. How many computers
do you own? We are going
upstairs. You may wait here.
for evidence.

Six working days. One
report completed. Zero
evidence corroborated.

Judith Camann, a poet and education specialist lives in the Pacific Northwest riding motorcycles with her husband. She co-founded the writing groups Overcoming Oranges and Parents Are Writers Too.  Presently an MFA candidate, Camann claims a lifetime of madness has carried her thus far; questioning how that very same madness has not yet killed her. Her work has been featured by Eyedrum Periodically, Main Street Rag and Weasel Press. She hopes her poetic voice captures the functions of the mind calling attention to the ways in which we walk through whatever life presents. She  also holds degrees in Early Childhood & Elementary Education, and an M.Ed. in Counseling.