How I Discovered Poetry: Laure-Anne Bosselaar

How I Discovered Poetry ~ Laure-Anne Bosselaar

Discovering Rhyme

They came cheap, the Petites Punitions
nuns flung at us for lesser sins: dyslexic
signs of the cross, skipped

confessions, whispers during Silence —
and sentences followed: copy two, ten, twenty
Lord’s Prayers or Hail Marys

on calligraphy paper, cursives
correctly curled, capitals clinging to margins,
black ink for consonants, vowels in red.

The wars I waged in those French
syllables — wanting love-red vowels to win
over habit-black consonants!

I hated hailing Mary, for anything
full of grace shamed me: I was homely,
lumpy, and had never been baptized —

three reasons for perpetual doom:
no sips of our Savior’s red liquor for me,
or tastes of His wan

flesh on my tongue. Banished,
I spent mass in the chapel’s back pews,
bored, counting red stained-

glass pieces over blue, gold
versus green in the west window
where Mary Magdalene

held Christ’s foot to her breast
so tenderly. On drizzly days, slow
raindrops sobbed down

Christ’s flank unto her longing
face­— I loved watching how nothing
distracted her from looking up at Him,

how she let Him quench His gaze
into hers. It was on one of those days
that novices sang a new hymn.

Its melody was rueful, flowed
with long ooo sounds: two words,
amour and toujours

swooned in harmony— it was
new to me: music inside a song, words
could pour melody into a tune —
swoon in harmony like Christ
and Mary Magdalene. I hadn’t heard this
as achingly before.

After that day, I slipped rhymes
in each line of my small punishments:
Hail frail Mary,
blessed art thou now… sounds
crimson with amour, rhyme’s song
pour toujours.

"Jewish girl who passed out in my bed"

Greg, a wonderful friend and talented photographer, sent me a link to a Craigslist Ad that was sent to him. I read. Laughter ensued.

Now, I share it with the world in honor of Greg’s birthday. I’m sending tons of happy birthday wishes to my JOF!

Jewish girl who passed out in my bed – m4w
Date: 2009-01-21, 12:25PM EST

You: Jewish, attractive and drunk

Me: Not Jewish (Gentile), dashing, gazelle on the dance floor and drunk

In case you were as blacked out as I think you were, I feel as though I should reintroduce myself. You were dancing around and enjoying the festive cake and brownies at the JCC inaugural bar mitzvah…I mean inaugural ball, before cabbing to Chinatown and passing out in my bed. Nothing makes me swoon for interfaith relationships like a girl who passes out in my lap in the back of a cab.

You might be asking yourself “why did that sweet boy not call me?” or “did I really wake up in a random guy’s bed in Chinatown?” and other important questions to gauge whether or not last night was a dream, drunken haze or bittersweet reality. Allow me to answer those questions.

While I have not called you, I did text you to make sure you succeeded in getting a cab at 7am and making it to work on time. However, in the heat of the moment last night, you either you gave me the wrong number, or we were both so F’ed up that the number went into my phone incorrectly. My equally blacked out friend (who you met in the bathroom and introduced us on the dance floor) pawned you off on me – the responsible, mitzvah-seeking guy who had been hitting on you most of the night – when it became clear that you could not effectively locate any of your belongings or coherently tell us where you lived.

Upon stumbling into my apt, you decided the party must go on, albeit you couldn’t stand or keep your eyes open. Again, quality traits I look for when asking myself, “could I see myself converting for this woman?” Once you changed into my clothes and passed out immediately in my bed, I wasn’t sure whether to sleep on the floor or in my bed. However, the cute way you drunkenly mumbled to yourself “I should stop drinking on Tuesdays” as you woke up, confirmed my decision to sleep in bed and make sure you didn’t suffocate in the sea of pillows before you.

I must say, the morning wasn’t as awkward as I thought it’d be. I figured you’d freak out, not knowing where you were or whose bed you were in. You took relative comfort in how I left a big glass of water and Excedrin (not rufies) on the table. After offering you more clothing to keep you warm outside and walking you out to get a cab, I went back to bed saying to myself, “I think that classy woman might be the one.”

If you’re reading this, my offer to take you out to dinner still stands. I’m a mensch at heart and will bring the Manischewitz.

Click here to visit the AD in the world of Craigslist.

U*Space Gallery Reading

U*Space Gallery
439 Edgewood Avenue SE Atlanta, Georgia 30312

9/18/08 ~ 7:30pm

Dustin Brookshire, Genevieve Lyons, & Greg Gimpelevich!

Dustin Brookshire is the founder and editor of Limp Wrist Magazine, which he is proud to promote as an e-zine with queer sensibility. His work has appeared in numerous online journals, including SubtleTea, ToasterMag, and Atlanta Rainbow Muse. Additionally, Dustin has won awards from two state poetry societies. Besides putting words on the page to create poems, he likes to put words on the page to create awareness of issues regarding our elected officials. He’s proud that in 2007 his blog made it the floor of Georgia Senate and his call for action resulted in an invitation to the Governor’s office.

Genevieve Lyons made her stage debut at the tender age of eight when she appeared in Mrs. Anderson’s second grade class production of “Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires.” She was The Fire. She thinks the most heart-rending thing ever written might be the spider scene in “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep.” Her favorite insect is the ant, and she wants to visit Antarctica.

Greg Gimpelevich is a 23-year-old, Ukrainian-born Atlanta transplant living in the bitchin’ party-town known as Marietta. Having become a graduate, he does nothing relating to his degree. In light of this, he has been disowned by his parents and from the Jewish nation for not having become a doctor and/or lawyer. Although he enjoys writing “Saved By The Bell” fan-fiction in his spare time, riddled with the sort of teenage angst you may find symptomatic of a 14-year-old boy with an unquenchable thirst to see Kelly Kapauski in a two-piece string bikini, he now works as a photographer.

Fundraising & More Limp Wrist Pics

I’ve been researching the procedures to establish a nonprofit corporation since January, and I’ve finally reached the conclusion that I do not want any part of the paperwork headache. I’d rather have a company like BizFilings handle all the “dirty” work for Limp Wrist. Plus, I know a couple people who have used BizFilings and had no complaints, so why risk me making an error? The IRS isn’t too forgiving when the average makes an error.

The down side to using Biz Filings is the cost. I’ll have to spend close to $700 to stay headache free, so I have decided to do a fundraiser. At work we’ve started the Biggest Loser competition. I I thought it’d be fun to ask friends and family to pledge $1 to $3 per pound lost during the competition. We started March 28, and I’ve lost 4 pounds in 2 weeks. Our last weigh day is June 30– so that’s a total of 12 weeks of losing!

Starting next week the competition organizer, Jan McAlister, the Nurse Practitioner who runs our Lipid Management Clinic (and is the smartest NP I’ve ever met), is going to write a note about how much weight I’ve lost. Then I’ll post her note in the blog. Maybe we’ll do some pictures too. (Even though I’m not a fan of chunky-Dustin pictures—see the launch party pictures below as evidence of chunky-Dustin.)

All money raised from the Biggest Loser Fundraiser will go to establish LW as a nonprofit organization. And if by some horrible chance I gain any weight throughout the competition, I’ll make a YouTube video as my punishment. I’ll do drag and let everyone vote on what song I should sing. If you’re interest in the Biggest Loser Fundraiser, send an email to dustinvbrookshire@gmail.com.
Audience shot….

Stacie Boschma reading; see her work in the 1st issue of LW.

Collin Kelley and Dustin Brookshire striking a pose.

Another audience shot…


Genevieve Lyons read the work Denise Duhamel.

Lisa Allender read the work Beth Gylys.


Donna Narducci, Atl Pride ED & Dustin Brookshire

More pictures will be available by Friday on the LW Myspace page.

All of the fantastic pictures were taken
by the talented
Greg Gimpelevich.
Visit
Greg’s Online Portfolio