Desert Women

We women get a sense of who we are
and how we look and what affect we have on men
by what we see there on the faces,
in the eyes of those we love the most
and sometimes what we see convinces us
that we are beautiful and molten sex
and freckled marble columns full of fire
and sometimes what we see is like a sudden
gasp of wintry air that hurts the lungs and
down deep inside our bellies and
we promise that we'll never feel that way again,
we love ourselves too much, we'll hide out in
the desert till we hear the adoration once again.

Hosanna in the highest. Blest is she who comes.

Sometimes the wait is brief.
Sometimes it never ends,
but always, it is better than a glimpse,
the faintest glimpse,
of disappointment.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015

Shake Them Up

Destiny Souza, age 15, got into a guy's car
outside a water park in Stuart, FL with her
friend Kiera Medina, also 15. They
were prostituted and given drugs
for a week; Medina was
run over and is in the hospital.
Destiny has now run away
from a holding facility,
having expressed to her mother
that she wished it had been her
who was run over. Pray for her.

I'd like to shake them,
slap them,
send them to their rooms
without their suppers

or their phones.

Shave their hair off
like they did to women
who collaborated with
the enemy in France, and
buy their clothes
for several years
from Goodwill,
yard sales,
thrift stores, better yet,
they have to make them
for themselves.

The cost for looking.
Heartache, worry,
mothers' eyes that cut this way
and that until the Bad Guy's
caught, he might be out there,
might be looking for another
victim.

He blew a kiss,
they got into the car,
he didn't make them.
What he made them do
the next day and the next,
that's punishment and more,
and I am sorry, anguished
at their suffering

a little bitter too.

I wanted them to be
a cautionary tale.
Don't wander off!
More safety, see, in numbers,
just be Good and Sweet
and always look both ways
before you cross.

But they weren't good
and they weren't sweet
and though they bit off
more than they could chew
and though, as children, couldn't
fully realize the consequence
of such stupidity, I think of
mothers weeping in the night
in fear of what was going on,
and now they weep because

they want to blame it all on him,
and Can't
Quite
Do it
and if
he is not the only one to blame
then maybe they are guilty too.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015

No Birkenstocks

I want to write for them
my name on their slick pages
every one delicious with words
photographs in black and white
because that's just how they roll
but I don't have an MFA
or spend my summers at retreats
no pet whose name would make
my little bio oh so quaint and clever
I don't live in a loft in Mass or
in Manhattan with my partner
(better yet a farm)
don't own a pair of Birkenstocks
and so my chances may be slim



(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015

Beginning and End

Forty years ago
she knew, she
knew it in her heart
and soul and brain
just what she wanted
and she did it. When
she did, the earth did not
stop spinning as a sign
that she was bad, the earth
did not start moving as a sign
that she was good
(that would come later).
And a few days after
when she did it
once or twice again
and said that she felt
married, it was true.
But when they heard the
car door slam outside,
they stopped,
and then he left,
and that was it.
One weekend out of
two millenium,
the end and the beginning
lay entwined but
they were unaware.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015

Go for It

Not as smart
Not as pretty
Not as thin
Not as witty
Not as chic
or erudite
Not as sharp
or Aphrodite
Not as published
Not as rich
Not as sexy
as that bitch
who has it all.

Apparently
she has it all
except for you.

Pursue this
goddess if she's
what you think
you want or even
if she's who you
want to think about.

But if instead
you just want love,
know this:
In all the universe,
you are the hand,
and I, alone,
the glove that
is a perfect fit.




(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015

Adam's Orchard

Ten trees in Israel,
an orchard thriving
in dark soil enriched by
blood and tears, the roots
entwining underground
with those of others planted
to remember, honor, grieve
the children of the Holocaust.
The ten are there for them,
of course, but even more,
for Adam. In Israel, his
trees do what he couldn't
do himself: sink roots deep
enough that heaven couldn't
pull him up so easily, to
grow from sapling to adult.
His trees beneath the
desert sun have had the time
he was denied, to grow up
strong and tall, a haven
for the birds and bugs,
providing shade for
someone who is weary,
there to rest. And maybe
tired strangers take the time
to read his name upon a little
plaque and pause to give
a blessing, thanking God
for someone who was loved
and is and is to come.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015

The Jewish National Fund plants trees in Israel for soil conservation, but also as a way to honor loved ones. It's a fun way to celebrate births and marriages, a meaningful way to honor those who have passed away. See more at www.jnf.org.

Semper Fi

Strung out on Mountain Dew and pills
the doctor gave him for his back,
a soldier home for several years
but in his eyes,
a pain that radiates and emanates from
things he's seen and done that's
deeper than the herniated discs.
Unhappy with his life,
realities that didn't fit the expectations
of "a few good men" ads
that he saw that time with her
back then.
      What was that movie? 
      Where is she now? 
      What was her name again?
His thinking's muddled,
has been for some time, before
or after the explosion, he's not sure.
It hardly matters.
Morgan Automotive will repair
his car, a surgeon will (one hopes) repair
his back in June. I wish my smile
and conversation had come laced with pixie dust,
jacked up on magic or a miracle,
a Mountain Dew of energy, enhanced,
delaying the inevitable crash.
unless somewhere there may be found
repair for all the damages remaining
in a soldier's soul.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015