the man with the
hidden camera
at the nude beach
the man online
who said i must
not post the photo
of the license plate
of the car
of the man with the
hidden camera
at the nude beach
The Most Lemony of
Lemon Muffins
the women shocked
by the man online,
the women
angered.
the SD card from
the camera-phone of
the man with the
hidden camera
at the nude beach
the SD card the
State police didn’t want,
the case they wouldn’t
take, because
the man with the
hidden camera
at the nude beach
has every right
to shoot me
and my
toddler
Leg of Lamb
Two Ways
the Facebook
screen-grabs that
preserve this moment
from 2013
in liquid blue
amber
the names of the files
on the SD card
of the man with the
hidden camera
at the nude beach:
“Cooliris” — for sharing
photos & videos
instantaneously
“Boob Massage” — for,
one presumes, images of
boobs being massaged
“itinerary” — for times,
places, flights to here,
from there
“Boys” — for, one
presumes, images of
…boys
“Dead Children” — for
___________________
the ferocity with which
my mother attacked the
unclean countertops,
Fantastik spray
in hand.
the video of me
chasing another man
down the same beach,
the same day,
yelling
the furtiveness of
a hard penis
running
Ina Garten’s
Perfect
Roast
Chicken
another man online
who says, “Haters gonna
hate. Wankers gonna
wank.”
the covering
i am expected to wear
to unsplice my body
from its loving
planet, to sever
skin from sand and
sun, soil and water—
the spacesuit
i am expected to wear
so that my young son
will never have to see
a plain female body,
only the hamstrung,
silicone-plumped,
butterfly-lipped
approximations thereof
to be found in
pornography
the dinner i am not
cooking right
now
the long slant of the
sun’s beams
this time of year
the hunt that
brought me
to my computer
in the first place:
a recipe, for tonight,
and
photos of my baby,
asleep—
my growing boy, with a
Teddy bear
the man who wants to
grab my ass, but
guesswhatidontwantto
even though he is
kind. even though he is
hot. even though he washes
dishes and votes for
women and married a
harridan like
me
DIY Homemade
Diaper Creme
the day i watched
“Thelma & Louise”
with an elder friend
in a movie theatre, a
matinée—
how the women hooted & clapped
when Susan Sarandon
shot that guy
“something like that
happened to me,” my
friend said. “you
girls today would call it
date rape, i guess.”
if your date
breaks into your
house, breaks the
lightbulbs, hides
in the dark, waiting
for you to come home
from work,
then _________?
if that’s your idea
of a date, then yes,
that was “date rape”
Patty’s Quiche
Jessica’s Madeleines
the slam of Grandma
Ruth’s old dishes into
the cabinet; the grunt of
hardwood planks under my
husband’s stocking feet
the apology i enact —
about dishes, about
dinner — before
retreating
into a
poem
Clafouti
Clotted Cream
the woman giving the
TED talk, the woman
who gets to define
how often married couples
should couple
the woman giving the
TED talk who says,
“if
you don’t give it to him
now, he will go find it
somewhere else”
the classification of
perimenopause as a
cluster of symptoms
to be diagnosed,
treated, erased
Pupusas
Gluten Free Oatmeal Cookies
the me who was 23,
23 and new to having
sex with anyone other
than her college
boyfriend —
the man who
pulled a gun on
me in bed —
a handgun, a
Glock
the shock he wore
when i laughed
when i laughed
at him
Jane Hirshfield’s
Vanilla Lavender
Fruits
the stranger who followed
my friend Hanna home
on Valentine’s Day
the prison sentence
he is still serving
the powerful men
at the firm where petite and
lovely Hanna works, the
way she pays their
bills, feeds them
nuts, changes out their
30-pound water jugs
without complaint
the muffling of the sound
when Hanna cries
inconveniently
as the Brett
Kavanaugh
confirmation
triggers
51% of
America
Amazing Whole
Wheat Pizza Crust
the twentysomethings we
once were, fretting, drinking,
wondering why our
mothers were so
crazy
my young-man friends
wondering,
what’s
wrong
with
girls.
Pears Al Vino
Corn Bread Muffins
the man who
wouldn’t hear
“No”
when i was
high as a ______
if you think your
sex life hasn’t been
affected by all this,
you’re a
madman
and a fool.
the photo on the SD card,
a selfie shot in the reflection
of a Toshiba laptop
the grunty, tanned
white-guy face
of the man with the
hidden camera
at the nude beach
the man online who said
by posting that face
and that license plate
i was starting a
lynch
mob
the posts i removed
at the request of the
FBI
the yellowjackets
buzzing through
liquid amber
sunlight,
the liquid amber
sunlight of
October.
Click “Share” to share
_____
Tiffany Lee Brown is a poet, artist, Tarot reader, and small-town newspaper columnist. An editor of Plazm magazine (https://plazm.com/magazine/), she grew up in the woods of Oregon’s Willamette Valley, and now dwells in the pine forests of Central Oregon. Find her Burning Tarot podcast online at tiffanyleebrown.com.
_____
Image By: https://www.thespruce.com/remove-base-of-broken-lightbulb-2175008