Time to bid a Titanic farewell

to politeness: it’s fled the harbor

and won’t be back.  Why should

it? So much work required in holding

open doors, making small talk, squeezing

into tight, hot suits and high heels.

Take poetry, for instance, which used

to exemplify decorum and learning

for the hobbyist, little thees

and thous like dainty tea cups

and sugar cubes. Then, even the big,

dirty topics like sex and death

slammed shut on the truth, the stink

and slap of body parts, everything

described using gold and heaven

and wings. Today I read a poem

published this year containing

the phrase the fine blonde purse

of her pussy, and it was clear

the poet meant no disrespect. Me,

I can’t imagine using a place to store

money as a metaphor for a woman’s

private parts. Too close to prostitution

or what some in this world still consider

a woman’s sole use. How about a door?

Suggestive of potentially dark hallways,

but also infinite possibility?  But please,

no stairways to heaven.  And no holding

them open anymore.

Politeness

by liz robbins

Liz Robbins' poems have appeared in Calyx, The Chattahoochee Review, Feminist Studies, Natural Bridge, Pebble Lake Review, RATTLE, RHINO, and The William and Mary Review. Her debut collection, Hope, As the World Is a Scorpion Fish, is forthcoming from The Backwaters Press in Fall, 2007. She's the recipient of the First Coast Writers’ Poetry Award, judged by Robert Bly, and a nominee for Best New Poets. She's an assistant professor of English and creative writing at Flagler College.

with all due respect to Tony Hoagland