Dotti Lipetz
Dotti
AT THE DANCE HALL
Look at those slim young things
Dancing to an erotic boogie.
Their skirts barely cover their swiveling asses.
Older women sway slowly, sensually, take their time.
Their soft flesh yielding to the men's grasp
That encircles their disappearing waistlines.
They wear long skirted dresses to hide
The pull of gravity on their once tight bodies.

A young couple giggle Stumble into a corner,
Exchange intense passion,
Exploring and connecting.

Two generations with the same end game.
And yet how different.
I take sips of a martini; listen to the jungle beat get faster,
Louder and more urgent.
The pulsating rhythms make me long to grab a young stud,
Drag him to the dance floor and Boogie in wild abandon.
Yes.
Sure I could do it. After all,
I've taken my arthritis pill.


MOM
Mom,
After papa died you never talked to me about him. It was like you shut the door on the past, Turned the lock,
And threw away the key.
I was so young I barely knew him. I did not know "What it meant to die. But now in my dreams I see him. I am running with such glee. Papa is coming he surely is coming He is running towards me.
His hands are outstretched to greet me. His face is unclear except for a huge smile. I race towards him.
I know he is going to catch me And swing me high over his head. But just as I get to him
He turns and walks away


SEASCAPE
Beneath her lover,
Foam like a bridal veil, Slides from her thighs to
The water's edge.
The tide in deep swells, undulates,
Rises and falls, and sweeps over their entwined bodies
Brushstrokes on an impressionist's painting.
From behind the shadow of the curtains
My fingers trace endless memories
Along the hollow in the empty pillow beside me.
The scents of sex drift through the window.
On the wall moonlit shadows, in rhythmic pulses,
Dance with .the pull of the tide.
Passions enfold my aloneness.
I listen to sounds of this night
And dream of lost ghosts.


A LIFE'S WORK
I finally am doing it!
I suppress the memories of his life's work
And decide to throw these notebooks away.
I discard his notes, his recordings of data,
And the last of his. research.
All these twelve years I kept them just as he had left them
For I wanted to feel his existence was not wiped away by death.
On these pages are records of his achievements.
Meticulous notes of laboratory studies, nerve by nerve, and cell by cell.
These insights are like lingering ghosts.
Brilliant as they may be
They are useless to other researchers.
In the world of ideas each individual
Must make discoveries for themselves.
So tear spattered leaf by leaf
I drop a lifetime into the trash.


BREATHE DAMN IT BREATHE
I hear the siren that splits the silence.
Shrieking,
Shrill.
I feel myself explode.
Whispering sounds.
Then absolute silence.

"Damn it breathe damn it"

I would breathe you big ape if you would quit pounding on my chest. This handsome man with the plump face was towering over me. He opened his mouth and leaned towards me. Is he coming on to me? He plastered his mouth to mine. Took a few breaths and then he was back to pounding my chest again. I lifted my arm to ward off his advances. My gosh just look at my shredded once gorgeous black silk power suit. Did this yahoo rip my clothes off? My feet feel bare. What has happened to the sexy shoes I bought for a small fortune? I want to yell at him I am screaming inside. But in a flash of recognition I realize I am having a conversation with myself. Mind-speak so to speak. No one can hear me.

"Breathe do you hear me? Breathe."

Of course I can hear you. You are screaming at me. You act as if I am at death's door. Well buster, let me tell you I am not ready to go yet. So get your big fat body off of me.
"Do you hear me?"

Sure I can hear you. I am not deaf you know. What's this? All of a sudden there are several men around me. They lift me on to a gurney of all things. Can't you hear me I am trying to tell you to lay off. I do not know what it is to die. I am not ready to go yet. Try to listen to me. I am not ready to go. I have too many things I still want to do.

One of these yahoos puts his face close to mine. He puts two fingers on my neck. He shakes his head. With gentle fingers he closes my eyelids.

But I am not ready to go yet! I am not ready!

I am not!