The Joans Poems
for Joans on her birthday
a poem by clancy jane
There is one who would laugh it off
if your pup ate the steaks you were fixing
for supper, leaving only baloney hash
in the house.
There is one who would shrug the loss
of her Uncle Tupelo and Counting Crows
to your boyfriend who absconded.
There is one who would not mind
if you misplaced her
Still Life With Woodpecker for 10
(or 15) years.
There is one who would walk with you,
8 drunken miles in Chukka boots
on a really Rural Route,
if your alternator fails
near the undertaker’s house
and you’re scared to walk alone.
There is Joans.
Thank God, there is Joans.
and here, her poems.
thank God, here’s her poems 
5/1/70 to Present (4/29/08)
If life is a journey
where am I
And who has the directions?
This birthday I will reach
The statistical mid-point of my life.
What does this mean to me, for me?
My hindsight is a measly 20/80
Past experiences blur and
Rationalizations refuse to focus.
So I look to the magic 8 ball.
Children? Marriage? Happiness?
Cannot tell you now.
Reply hazy
try again.
Concentrate and ask again.
Angela Parenza might ask
“Is it all downhill from here?”
I hope so.
The Downhill is
the easiest part of the hike.
Even With The Arguing (3/19/09)
Ames refers to it as the last good day.
Us and her girls, the mom outside.
Watching the birds.
Peaceful, even with the girls arguing.
Passing time, waiting to get the paper,
Coffees for the Duncans,
Sodas for the Byrns.
The brother, smoking his refreshment.
Us, the Byrns, the mom and dad outside.
Looking at the stars.
Peaceful, even with the arguing.
