You Bring Out...(poems)

As promised, two of my own "You Bring Out..." poems.

You Bring Out the 1950s

Housewife in Me

You bring out the June Cleaver

and Donna Reed in me. The yes dear

in me. You bring out the rolling pin

in me. The perfect piecrust and icebox

cookies in me. You bring out the dime

store in me, the pink poodle knickknack

in me. You bring out the proper hemline,

embroidered handkerchief, petticoat

and white gloves in me. The dotted swiss

and crossed at the ankle in me. You bring

out the pink and black kitchen in me,

the tea towels and gingham aprons in me.

You bring out the cucumber sandwiches

in me, the pot roast and boiled potatoes

in me, the Jell-O salad and deviled ham

in me. You bring out the Lilt home

permanent in me. The Norman Rockwell

illustrations in me. The Frank Sinatra in me,

April in Paris and World on a String in me.

You bring out the Laura Petrie in me,

the separate twin beds in me. You bring out

the stockings and garters in me, backdoor

milkman and cocktails in the den in me.

You bring out the supper at six, ribbon

in my hair, pre-revolution in me.

Carrie Butler Becker

21 July 2003

Friends, please do not use or reproduce my words without my knowledge and consent.

****

You Bring Out the Boy in Me

You bring out the World Series in me,

crack of the bat, bases are loaded, bottom

of the ninth, winning run, crowd goes wild

in me. The swordfight, climbing trees,

spitting over the balcony, daring to jump

in me. The backyard, bugs in a mayonnaise

jar, magnifying glass on ants in me. The spit

wads, bunk beds, clubhouse, dirty jokes

in me. The Boy Scout, superhero, popping

wheelies, don’t be a sissy in me. The cap on

backwards, shirts vs. skins, armpit farts,

flexing in front of a mirror, slap on the back

in me. The roughhouser, BB gun, last one

in’s a rotten egg in me. The war in me,

the fistfight, black eye, lunch money bully

in me. The cockiness, the my dad can beat

your dad in me. The bring it on, tough guy

in me. The Old Yeller, football injury, letter

jacket, underdog in me. The garage band,

hard rock electric bass, “Wipe Out” drum solo

in me. The air guitar in me. The you’re just like

your father, and someday I’ll be somebody in me.

Carrie Butler Becker

21 July 2003

Friends, please do not use or reproduce my words without my knowledge and consent.