I spot him stalking our mailbox
dressed in drab, terrycloth
discern him
shocking the quiet neighbor
with threats of bear sightings
blood-engorged ticks
a tactic he learned in Nam.
Habitually absent at the Town Street Festival
he retreats inside his roach motel
to re-patch old newspaper to the windows,
follow the stock market and inflate his belly.
He wheezes about the drought,
draining the swamp,
and fixing the front porch.
then whines about indigestion
forking down a hunk of salami
leaving a stalk of slimy lettuce,
that the army ants snub
during their pillaged raid
into the shadowed
side, of town.
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Cornelia DeDona
Author, Poet, Photographer, domestic violence survivor, and naturalized immigrant, Cornelia is currently an Arts and Letters Member-At-Large of The National League Of American Pen Women.
Cornelia lived in Kaneohe, Hawaii for thirty-six years. Also seven years in the Mid-Hudson Valley of New York. She now resides in North Fort Myers, Florida.
Her poems and photography are published in print, online and Rain Bird, a literary and art journal of the University of Hawaii's Windward Community College (2008-2013).
In 2013, Cornelia received Rain Bird's Kolokolea Poetry Prize for her poem, "Speaking French."
In 2016 her chapbook "Hawaiian Time," entered in the National League of American Pen Women’s Vinnie Ream contest was awarded the 3rd place in their inaugural multi-discipline category.
View all posts by Cornelia DeDona