Facts About The Moon Laux is an American poet of emotionally direct lyrics on love, mortality, addiction, and working-class life; Facts About the Moon won the NBCC Award.

#DorianneLaux #FactsAboutTheMoon #PoetryCommunity #PoemOfTheDay #PoemsRethabileLikes

The first of three slides of a poem titled "The Chef's Wife (After Dorianne Laux)". It reads: i loved him most when he came home after twelve hours of firing at all cylinders non-slip shoes coated with oil and butter forearms splattered with dark spots that make me frown, burns he is immune to after two decades in the kitchen, rag over his shoulder shouting ‘yes, chef’ and ‘heard!’ over clanging pans, flying dishes, slamming trays, stoves and ovens roaring, broiling, sauteing, toasting, grilling controlling chaos in a mad environment i cannot ever understand or know,

i love to smell the barbeque smoke in his beard, and it is no wonder i wish to devour him, this man who is elbow deep in meals all day, i hold firm hands that have done time working the line that have diced, chopped, and butchered meat i want to loosen him, knead him, roll him out like dough be sweetness amid savory

i give him soft places to rest his head and cramped hands i soak in his kitchen with its quirks and cooks i picture him drinking water from a plastic quart container a moment of reprieve on the conga line when he is in the weeds in the middle of the dinner rush until the diehard basketball fans retreat home only after creating their celebratory feasts can he do the same when he crosses the threshold and embraces me i liken myself to that chug of water from a quart cup the quenching oasis after the kitchen’s inferno

A copy of The Shipfitter's Wife by Dorianne Laux. It reads: I loved him most when he came home from work, his fingers still curled from fitting pipe, his denim shirt ringed with sweat, smelling of salt, the drying weeds of the ocean. I’d go to where he sat on the edge of the bed, his forehead anointed with grease, his cracked hands jammed between his thighs, and unlace the steel-toed boots, stroke his ankles and calves, the pads and bones of his feet. Then I’d open his clothes and take the whole day inside me—the ship’s gray sides, the miles of copper pipe, the voice of the foreman clanging off the hull’s silver ribs. Spark of lead kissing metal. The clamp, the winch, the white fire of the torch, the whistle, and the long drive home.

Today is my 2 year wedding anniversary 💜💍💛

For our anniversary last year I wrote The Chef's Wife, after reading Dorianne Laux's poem, The Shipfitter's Wife.

You know I'm in love if I'm writing #longformpoetry 😂

#poetry #lovepoetry #anniversary #chefwife #doriannelaux

I had a boyfriend who told me stories about his family, how an argument once ended when his father seized a lit birthday cake in both hands and hurled it out a second-story window. That, I thought, was what a normal family was like: anger sent out across the sill, landing like a gift to decorate the sidewalk below. In mine it was fists and direct hits to the solar plexus, and nobody ever forgave anyone. But I believed the people in his stories really loved one another, even when they yelled and shoved their feet through cabinet doors, or held a chair like a bottle of cheap champagne, christening the wall, rungs exploding from their holes. I said it sounded harmless, the pomp and fury of the passionate. He said it was a curse being born Italian and Catholic and when he looked from that window what he saw was the moment rudely crushed. But all I could see was a gorgeous three-layer cake gliding like a battered ship down the sidewalk, the smoking candles broken, sunk deep in the icing, a few still burning.

#Poetry
#Poem
#BlueskyPoetry
#DorianneLaux

It's Mr Procrastinator's birthday today. I am pleased to say that no baked goods have been defenestrated.

Family Stories by Dorianne Laux

#poetry #doriannelaux #kindness

The last lines of this just wreck me. From Dorianne Laux's book, Smoke: bookshop.org/a/862/978188...

#poem #poetry #doriannelaux #books #writing

Poem by Dorianne Laux written over watercolor of the moon reflecting on a lake: “If we are fractured/ we are fractured/ like stars/ bred to shine/ in every direction.” Source: @poe_a_tree via IG.

“If we are fractured…”

#poetry #stars #DorianneLaux