MALTED MILK BALLS

MALTED MILK BALLS

Seven - begged for malted milk balls,
twenty round covered chocolate
candies, just a dime.

Ten - it was triple chocolate -
three layers in different colors.

Fifteen, a Winston behind a
pizza store; four girls drag
on the same cigarette.

High school, I began to
know what love was all
about – and in college I
learned to lick salt and lemon,
doused by shots of tequila,
and jumping jacks on dormitory
beds. . .

Remember stars in the field,
thumbs upturned to catch
a ride - our professor in his red corvette.
My dormitory walls plastered
in poetry, torn to shreds
the night my thumb was caught,
blood on white cotton.

Three men tossed cats from a
third floor to see if they landed
on their feet - hated those men.

Gave in to freedom,
left home and craved another man, met
superman in N.Y.C.,
waved goodbye from the 14th floor…

Eighteen, cameras, lights -
autographs is all I craved;
smiles from all who came, to watch,
and never knew why they asked me to
sign?

And then I said, "I do."
Diapers, bottles, dust, and dishes
occupied my time.

Now I craved conversation
I talked to our infantn and our dog,
but I craved more -

Still, I could dance.
Collected little feet
to show them how to leap.
It was dancing, I craved again.

One day, my vision
misbehaved...
it wasn't fair. but words were
always there.

Words crept out of me, words
told me to say it - all of it,
words told me to tell others how
to survive.

I had a lifetime in back of me
and another poking at me
in the front – my inner voice.

Yesterday - malted milk balls,
triple chocolate candy bars;
and I can’t forget the night my mother
chased me with a broom.

Oh, I began to create -
on crisp white paper filled with
brilliant ink - memories of life,
and in my mind - in living color.

Nancy Duci Denofio
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