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Ada Limón
Ada Limón is originally from Sonoma, California. A graduate of the Creative Writing Program at New York University, she has received fellowships from the Provincetown Fine Arts Work Center, New York Foundation for the Arts, and won the Chicago Literary Award for Poetry. Her poems have appeared in numerous magazines, including, the Iowa Review, Slate, Watchword, Poetry Daily, Tarpaulin Sky, LIT, Painted Bride Quarterly, and others. Her first book lucky wreck was the winner of the 2005 Autumn House Poetry Prize and her second book this big fake world is was the winner of the 2005 Pearl Poetry Prize and is due out in the Fall. She lives in Brooklyn, New York with her new bike and doesn't have any tattoos.
ada at petesbigsalmon dot com
www.petesbigsalmon.com
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First Lunch With Relative Stranger Mister You
We solved the problem of the wind
with an orange.
Now we’ve got the problem
of the orange.
Jimmy once said, Do you get along with everyone
as good as this?
I did not know how to say yes.
In Albuquerque yes is hard/easy/look
a roadrunner!
You there, across the table, could be my opposite
of enemy. I do not want 8 babies.
Are you hooked on height?
I’m trying to stop myself from telling you
about the time I lost my passport
and so thought of killing myself,
identity being an important instrument
of my behavior.
I saved myself by thinking I’d write a novel
and then fell asleep in the closet.
It’s called, the novel, Last Things for Lala.
It is not called, The Contradictory Nature of Hangers.
What is the punctum?
Out of which limb will you grow?
Jimmy had two sons, nice ones.
Two taller than me. I bought them food and listened
to ICP in the 65 Chevy.
I was 53 years old. That’s one year older than Jimmy.
I’ve never been where you live,
but that doesn’t mean I should move there.
I get attached to rocks.
At the tone the time will be: Let’s never die!
We’ve just met, should we move to Ensenada?
Or should I just borrow a pen?
I could tie your shoelaces
together and play king
of the mountain.
I’ve brought a lot to the table.
You’ve brought an orange.
I’d rather sit a kiss than you would.
My fist is like a kiss.
I want a shirt that says, Kiss Me or I’ll Cut You.
I want to start every sentence with,
Let me tell you something, Mister.
Mister who smells like yellow.
Mister who has too many pockets.
Mister who is a Mister times two,
Mister who misses and then gets sad,
Mister who’s lunch I’m having.
What to do with the problem of the orange?
Let me tell you something Mister,
you’ve got to peel it.
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© Ada Limón
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