BEST POETRY BOOK GIFT FOR THE WOMEN ON YOUR CHRISTMAS LIST

PUT THIS BOOK ON YOUR CHRISTMAS 
SHOPPING LIST if you are looking for a gift for a woman aged 21-50, a woman who can read and loves to read books, a woman who especially loves to read literary poetry of our time, perhaps she writes poems herself. She is a woman who is not narrow minded but rather is one who is curious about humans and their relationships, one seeking a world view, whose concerns are matters of the heart, matters of the spirit.




I highly recommend this book:  Poet Nancy Simpson




Debra Kaufman's literary reputation is well known to readers of poetry. She is also the author of Family of Strangers, Still Life Burning, Moon Mirror Whisky Wind and A Certain Light. Individual poems have been published in Southern Poetry Review, Greensboro Poetry Review, Pembrok, Carolina Quarterly and in anthologies such as 100 YEARS OF NC POETRY and Literary Trails of NC. Her short and full-length plays have been performed throughout North Carolina, her adopted home.


To buy THE NEXT MOMENT, $13.95 add $2.00 postage




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Want to read poems from this collection by the author 
Debra Kaufman? 


THREE POEMS BY DEBRA KAUFMAN all from 
her book THE NEXT MOMENT

Good Girls

Good girls always fall for bad boys.

We’re trained in the fine arts

of downcast eyes and demure smiles,

to caress the crisp pages of the Bible.

Trained in the fine arts

of be ye kind and don’t make waves,

I caress the crisp pages of the Bible,

Daddy’s rabbit pelts and pheasant breasts

(be ye kind and don’t make waves?).

I earn gold stars and pinch my sister.

Daddy’s rabbit pelts and pheasant breasts

teach me the secret glee of bad.

I earn gold stars and pinch my sister,

desire the scent of Brut and smoke, want

to be taught the secret glee of bad

by a boy whose eyes could size me up.

Desiring the scent of Brut and smoke,

the swagger, oh, of his lean body, I want

the boy whose eyes size me up,

his rough hands, wild hair, tight jeans.

Oh, the swagger of his lean body!

Engine thrumming, music blaring,

rough hands, wild hair, tight jeans.

I’ll take you to see Orion straddle the sky.

Engine thrumming, music blaring,

he takes me where Orion straddles the sky.

I say, I see the good in you. He laughs:

Good girls always fall for bad boys.

The Rushing Way I Went

As if each day were the same river

with variations—

one day tires, shingles,

a doll bobbing past,

the next, a heron, hunched

and studious on the bank.

I’d wake up, put in (yes,

I had then delusions of steering),

and set in motion this sequence:

make coffee, feed the kids,

get them to school on time,

on to my job, the turnpike commute,

yada yada yada.

Evenings, upwind, rewind.

Where were you?

In those short remaining hours,

your inevitable flights

took away the best parts of us.

All so long ago.

Now I wash dishes

to the tunes of smoky angels

and doves calling from the deep

down of their soft, gray breasts.

On Learning His Diagnosis 2

After September rains flies

cluster on the porch

like one still breath.

Tiny opportunists,

they zoom inside

in crushable husks,

settle on fresh-picked blackberries,

buzz lamps and windows.

Pitiless,

I vacuum up their no-account lives

as they cling to screens

in the last light they’ll ever know.

 www.debrakaufman.info