Wednesday Poetry

 My Lolita

By Billie Daddario

Lolita in tight shorts and a half shirt,

Walking down the street.

Causing the man to drive his car into a parked car.

Lolita looking for men to worship her and they do.

Lolita is trouble in her tight shorts and half shirt.

Drinking beer out of the bottle you bought for her.

Because she didn’t have an ID.

Lolita making the most of her tight shorts and half shirt.

Lolita in your bed with the sheet draped around her

Lolita’s tight shorts and a half shirt lay half hazardly on the floor.

Because you took from her what you thought she was giving.

Lolita playing grown up is still very much a little girl.

Lost and Found

By Billie Daddario

I lost it when I took it off to show my manicure.

I looked for it by the swings

I looked for it by the ball field

I looked by the slide and the monkey bars too

Of course, I looked by the classroom door.

I found the red mitten with my name inside

In the lost and found box next to an old blue shoe

On the shelf in the closet where the coats all hang in straight rows

Between the Wonder Woman lunch box and the playground basketball.

I found it all when I was looking for my red mitten.

Wednesday Poetry

I Wish I Were a Butterfly

By Billie Daddario

I wish I were a caterpillar

With many legs

Munching leaves

I’d spin a cocoon

I’d sleep for a month.

And then I’d come out

Beautiful with all that knowing

Of the caterpillar. All that

Secret knowing of the

Caterpillar I’d be wise and beautiful

And then I’d fly away.

Alas, I’m only me

I don’t eat leaves

I can’t spin a cocoon

I’m not secretly wise

I’m just me.

And me as me as I’ll ever be.

From now till the day that I die.

Wednesday Poetry

Tea Parties in My Mind

By Billie Daddario

The pain is piled in baskets around the room,

And the dreams and passions are crumpled

Pieces of paper littering the floor and spilling

Out of the trashcan.

Someone bring me a broom and dustpan.

I can’t look in the mirror.

The reflection shows the trip is almost over.

Time is running out.

Prop me up my knees can’t hold the loss.

Bring me a damn broom.

Sweep from east to west

It brings good luck.

Hold my breath.

Hold my spells.

Plant lavender by the garden gate.

Malignant spirits hold parties in my brain.

Unable to evict, I serve them tea in china cups,

And lady fingers with strawberry ice cream.

Pink roses and peonies on the table.

Wednesday Poetry

Crazy Alphabet

By Billie Daddario

All of my letters run round

Won’t stand still, won’t calm down.

They make camp fires behind my peepers.

This is the year I lost my eye cheaters.

I’m making do with an old pair.

All the letters have grown hair down to there.

They all squish together and won’t become clear.

How am I ever going to hear their words?

They’re all changing places.

Turning slices to splices,

And aces to graces.

It’s been quite an antic and I’m really quite ready

For my letters to lie down for a Knapp.

Wednesday Poetry

i am


Billie Daddario                                                                           

i am Henry Higgins’ Highness

i am cool chameleon colors or daybreak blue

i am clay stiff softening, becoming pliable with a warm touch

i am contemplative quite

and introspective screams

i am intricate like filigree

i am mostly my Father’s daughter

My total is greater than the sum of my parts