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Sample Poems by Chris Bullard
Million Dollar Movie
Throughout the sixties my mother parked me
At the feet of TV's cowboy heroes
Who rode on horseback through rains of arrows
And took spinster teachers to quilting bees.
I hated them. I wanted comedies
Set in New York bars with grand pianos
Where swells in white ties and tails plied Eros
With frothy cocktails, or smart Martinis.
I wasn't shooting for a hometown honey
But for a blonde out of caf'e society:
Snub-nosed, she'd snub my clumsiness until,
Intoxicated on our repartee
And highballs served in deco-style crystal,
She'd cling to me like I was old money.
Cocoa Beach, Florida, 1961
When the countdown droned through its final ten,
Our teacher clapped hands for her third grade class
To pay attention as Freedom 7
Went spiraling up like a touchdown pass.
TV was offering a new frontier.
We thought we'd be given metal helmets
At Rocket High School where we'd volunteer
For missions colonizing the planets.
But teacher shouted, "Return to your seat."
She chalked more facts for us. God, this was slow.
We knew Geography was obsolete.
Why should we learn the rivers of some place
In Southeast Asia where we'd never go?
Countries meant nothing. We would live in Space.