Tornado

Over the weekend Minnesota saw four tornados wreak damage in rural areas, but, thankfully, there were no injuries.

The storms reminded me of a cyclone that ripped through north Minneapolis not so many years ago. It pummeled a part of the city that could least afford it.



Tornado


in that part of town
with gap-toothed houses, maws
boarded shut

For Sale and Foreclosed signs
creaking on too many blocks.

A liquor store looted even as the funnel
bullied its way down the street

barging into Cleo's hastily emptied Cafe
spintering tables into toothpicks

before bumping into a barbershop
ancient as its owner, sweeping up clippings

then ripped off the roof of a nearby clinic
exposing its cache of drugs like a favor

to marauders, one bad boy to another,
leaving in its wake intensified pressure

with one-room options
pluck and gutted in that part of town.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Laugh Lines and Crazing

It has been a crazy time with me traveling, returning to Minneapolis to spend only a night more than once before leaving again the following morning.

In other words, an explanation for the scattershot nature of poems this summer.



Laugh Lines and Crazing


Facial creams and time machines
fail me, but in the mirror

my mind takes up the slack,
possesses the knack
of air-brushing contours.

Not until I see a photo of myself
or glimpse my reflection aslant

does an image of a frayed
rag doll ambush me,
like a replay of Dorian Gray.

But no delusion with the devil
exists, only my magic-eraser smile
as antidote.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

The Weight of a Piano

A friend of mine talked of downsizing last evening, but was hesitant over the amount of space about to be lost. Most importantly, her beloved piano might have to be forfeited. I had a piano once . . .



The Weight of a Piano


follows me even as my fingers forget
the runs and cadences of the composers.

Slipping away on a rope and pulley
from a jerry-rigged marriage, the music

swung outside the window of my life,
my ex and his lawyer maneuvering.

Landing neatly on the pavement,
it barricaded one road completely,

flash-freezing
into a symbol of my former self.

Eighth notes and trills skipping away
like a harmony unwoven.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Unintended Consequences

How often do we choose things impulsively without thinking of possible repercussions? And when our actions come back to haunt us, does an out exist? I had forgotten what happened to King Midas, if I ever knew, and finally reread the entire tale.



Unintended Consequences


Midas,
foolish King of Phrygia,
what were you thinking?
A wish granted by bacchus,
a wish wasted on avarice.

What did you touch first
with your golden gift?
A wine cup, a scroll, or, maybe,
a laurel wreath which changed
into a lustrous crown?

How long before you realized
the grapes in your hand
or the water on your tongue
filled your mouth with bitter metal?

Lucky for you
the god had an antidote.
Lucky for us
after you bathed as he bid,
gold now forever found
in the sands of riverbeds.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor