A Signal of Autumn

Found poems sourced from The Stepford Wives

[asignalofautumn]

I’m not going to stay here.

Just wait till I get on the market

I think rock bottom’ll hit sooner or later.

I’m not going to wait around for it to happen,

not going to be me if I do.

Poem 7

Process: Erasure

Source: Levin, Ira. The Stepford Wives. New York: New York, 1972. 95-98.

[asignalofautumn]

I like to join a stack of books

with a cup of coffee.

Housework?

I’m planning to avoid that.

Concerned about being a hermit?

If you like a blanket fort, join in.

Poem 6

Process: Erasure

Source: Levin, Ira. The Stepford Wives. New York: New York, 1972. 83-85.

[asignalofautumn]

“How are you?”

Very well, thank you.

Well…I’m afraid,

but I don’t know

the rest in the bottle.

Clink. Pull the cap.

Inside. Clink.

Like a rock,

the rest. Clink.

The pad. The pen.

The pad, the pen

is full of them.

Breathe deeply and look.

Poem 5

Process: Erasure

Source: Levin, Ira. The Stepford Wives. New York: New York, 1972. 115-116.

[asignalofautumn]

Except a bloody chaotic galumphing*,

the uniquely crooked was fine,

was, of course, only looking

plastic and immaculate.

Isn’t immaculate, of course.

Was plastic, of some kind.

Today, isn’t that. Why?

It got boring after a while,

was time to be real

and have a full life—

a very full life.

*Has galumphing been used as a noun before? If not I propose it.

Poem 4

Process: Erasure

Source: Levin, Ira. The Stepford Wives. New York: New York, 1972. 45-49.

[asignalofautumn]

She breathed and wished,

feared the so-alive city,

the dark, the radiance,

the down, the up,

and facing the doorway

she was now at.

She turned to go in.

Note: I happened to finish this poem at 3:33a

Poem 3

Process: Erasure

Source: Levin, Ira. The Stepford Wives. New York: New York, 1972. 8-9.

[asignalofautumn]

She stood alone,

silence open in the empty dark.

The storm behind the storm hit,

gave its fullest-toothed go,

pounding around,

an all-out threat.

She froze,

but she was all right,

or looked it.

No. It’s just not so.

Maybe ‘could be’,

maybe ‘going to be’.

Now? No.

Now, just wait

and see if she does

try to become happy.

Poem 2

Process: Erasure

Source: Levin, Ira. The Stepford Wives. New York: New York, 1972. 121-131.

[asignalofautumn]

A new project starts,

a signal of autumn

and a signpost to potential friends.

“I want to wish you a sincere and hearty,

‘Welcome to Stepford.’”

Open a notebook, if willing.

Futz around with lists of words

pecked from pages galore,

ready for eventual use,

or cross out the words you don’t want

on a page or two. I bet you find a poem,

or something darn close to one.

I’m delighted to be working in Stepford.

Are you?

Poem 1

Process: Remix

Source: Levin, Ira. The Stepford Wives. New York: New York, 1972. 3, 9, 11, 26, 31-34, 39, 41, 47, 55, 65, 70, 72-73, 75.* Print.

*Might have missed which page I pulled “ready” from.