ann lauinger


I get a kick out of these poets

who are always discovering it is enough.

Rain tattooing the windows is enough.

Your warm flesh beaded with damp is enough.

Enough is the stern mesa, the spawning ocean,

This hammer, that sparrow, our sagging porch steps –

enough with enough!

Ladies & gentlemen, a question:

Why this restless stringing and restringing words

if it is enough?

And why is my heart like a short-legged dog

that jumps and jumps

for a piece of meat on the table?

-Ann Lauinger

Marvell Noir - Ann Lauinger

Sweetheart, if we had the time,
A week in bed would be no crime.
I’d light your Camels, pour your Jack;
You’d do shiatsu on my back.
When you got up to scramble eggs,
I’d write a sonnet to your legs,
And you could watch my stubble grow.
Yes, gorgeous, we’d take it slow.
I’d hear the whole sad tale again:
A roadhouse band; you can’t trust men;
He set you up; you had to eat,
And bitter with the bittersweet
Was what they dished you; Ginger lied;
You weren’t there when Sanchez died;
You didn’t know the pearls were fake …
Aw, can it, sport! Make no mistake,
You’re in it, doll, up to your eyeballs!
Tears? Please! You’ll dilute our highballs,
And make that angel face a mess
For the nice Lieutenant. I confess
I’m nuts for you—but take the rap?
You must think I’m some other sap!
And, precious, I kind of wish I was.
Well, when they spring you, give a buzz;
Guess I’ll get back to Archie’s wife,
And you’ll get twenty-five to life.
You’ll have time then, more than enough,
To reminisce about the stuff
That dreams are made of and the men
You suckered. Sadly, in the pen
Your kind of talent goes to waste.
But Irish bars are more my taste
Than iron ones: stripes ain’t my style.
You’re going down; I promise I’ll
Come visit every other year.
Now kiss me, sweet—the squad car’s here.