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Showing posts with label Virginia Thomas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Virginia Thomas. Show all posts

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Red is Not Red Anymore [Today's News Poem, October 21, 2010]

Red is Not Red Anymore [Today's News Poem, October 21, 2010]

You said you could live in my mind;
A house I would share with you—both
Our properties joined with a door:
Unlocked, then unhinged and removed.

I walk to my office and sit:
My swiveling chair and my files
Surround me. The cabinet drawer
Is dented—my knuckles have scars.

I open it—look, there's the snap
You took in Sedona, the curls
In stones that predated the ape.
The redness like bricks in that pic:

Your house in Virginia—I loved
That first home because it was yours.
And after that things got much worse
For you and for us—though I loved

The sanity felt with you—still
There—even though cliffs are a plunge,
No longer a sentinel-call
To make this thing love—to define

It carnally after the minds
Have joined and not prior. It meant—
I don't know what it meant for you—
It's the only memory that mattered to me.

"When Anita Hill accused Clarence Thomas of sexual harassment during his explosive 1991 Supreme Court confirmation hearing, Thomas vehemently denied the allegations and his handlers cited his steady relationship with another woman in an effort to deflect Hill's allegations.
Lillian McEwen was that woman. "
—Michael A. Fletcher, Washington Post Staff Writer, Friday, October 22, 2010
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/10/21/AR2010102106645.html



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Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Virginia Thomas's Damned Spot [Today's News Poem, October 20, 2010]

Virginia Thomas's Damned Spot [Today's News Poem, October 20, 2010]

Though truth can be smothered, it's always uncovered.
Facts are just residue; sticky opinions
That decompose slowly, before they are wholly
Liquified; proof disappears with the witness.

The body loves twitching; so free of the itching
Life tends command, it is free to be rigid;
To burn up the lipids; to pulse with insipid
Fury, then slacking forever—then rotting.

The scent is much shriller (of course) for the killer;
Spoiling her evening, her marriage to status;
Her trips to salons where it stinks up her hair—
Rotting at breakfast, at dinner and bedtime.

""Good morning Anita Hill, it's Ginni Thomas," said the message left this month, according to a transcript provided by ABC News. "I just want to reach across the airwaves and the years and ask you to consider something. I would love you to consider an apology sometimes and some full explanation of why you did what you did with my husband."... But Lillian McEwen, a former Senate Judiciary Committee lawyer who said she dated Clarence Thomas from 1979 through the mid-1980s, told The Washington Post in an interview that Hill's long-ago description of Thomas's behavior resonated with her. "
—Michael A. Fletcher, Washington Post Staff Writer, Wednesday, October 20, 2010; 10:19 AM
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/10/19/AR2010101907062.html



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