Bette O’Callaghan – Two Poems

Bette O’Callaghan

Two Poems

78 RPM

He was her one great love
after meeting him, she
filled in the notches on her bedpost
covered her mirrors
unlaced her corset
let down her hair
put away her boots and whips
dusted off her dancing shoes
wound up her Victrola*
and sang herself to sleep

*and here’s what she listened to:

The Doyenne of the Veranda

Ours is a city of stained sheets and roguish regrets
a mini metropolis of grandiose expectations…
unfulfilled ambitions; fuelled by drink, drugs and sex

lost souls seek my rocking chair for succor
tales of sordid lives gush from their lips
nothing: is forbidden on the veranda

dispensing absolution with a graceful nod,
I wave my hand in non-judgmental benediction…
silently contemplating the foibles of men

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