I’ve been reading first books of poetry and using blank postcards as a bookmark. This is the result.
I’m going to keep making postcards over the summer as I read more books. If you want one, send me your address.
![tuesday-johnson:
ca. 1860’s, [portrait of Gen. Ulysses S. Grant], Matthew Brady
via the Library of Congress
Today, April 27th, marks Ulysses S. Grant’s 191st birthday.
Feel free to browse Historical Indulgence’s tagged content featuring him.
Here’s a poem I wrote about Ulysses Grant called “Dear Brigadier.”
Dear Brigadier
My type has always been Ulysses S. Grant, bigMidwestern boys with full beards and a flare foralcoholism and leadership skills.My first kiss came well after puberty’s fuzzymustache phase, with the kind of man who mightone day drop his X-box controller and grab the reins of a horse,tear off his graphic tee and show me the silver buttonsof his army uniform.
I like the kind of man who knows what it’s liketo disappoint an entire nation, who’ll fall into our bed,put his hand up my shirt and say to himself:“Well she took a nap instead of playing video gameswith me, but at least it’s not as bad as April 1862–men drowning on the battlefield while their lungs filled with raindrops.”
I’ll love him no matter how uncomfortablehe looks at a desk,shifting the inkwell or the Macbookback and forth to make spacefor his sweaty forehead. I’ll wake up from my naptwo hours later and tell him, you’re the only person in the worldI would go to Ohio for.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/609aaae0b8366332dace5089574b80de/tumblr_mlvj15S15F1qa51rdo1_500.jpg)
ca. 1860’s, [portrait of Gen. Ulysses S. Grant], Matthew Brady
Today, April 27th, marks Ulysses S. Grant’s 191st birthday.
Feel free to browse Historical Indulgence’s tagged content featuring him.
Here’s a poem I wrote about Ulysses Grant called “Dear Brigadier.”
Dear Brigadier
My type has always been Ulysses S. Grant, big
Midwestern boys with full beards and a flare for
alcoholism and leadership skills.
My first kiss came well after puberty’s fuzzy
mustache phase, with the kind of man who might
one day drop his X-box controller and grab the reins of a horse,
tear off his graphic tee and show me the silver buttons
of his army uniform.I like the kind of man who knows what it’s like
to disappoint an entire nation, who’ll fall into our bed,
put his hand up my shirt and say to himself:
“Well she took a nap instead of playing video games
with me, but at least it’s not as bad as April 1862–
men drowning on the battlefield while their lungs filled with raindrops.”I’ll love him no matter how uncomfortable
he looks at a desk,
shifting the inkwell or the Macbook
back and forth to make space
for his sweaty forehead. I’ll wake up from my nap
two hours later and tell him, you’re the only person in the world
I would go to Ohio for.
Terrance Hayes reads "Arbor for Butch"
Something I wish I wrote. Well, something I love to read.
Click the screen shot to read two poems of mine at Mixed Fruit Mag’s October issue.
I wrote a quick new bio for Mixed Fruit, which I love and will use forever until I get more legit publications: Sasha Debevec-McKenney has been writing love poems to Presidents for as long as she can remember. She was born and raised in Connecticut but now resides in the Midwest.
A poem of mine in Jeffery Berg’s blog! Click the screenshot to read the whole thing on jdbrecords.
