Wednesday, August 25, 2010



passed a man who smiled
at me today
and wondered why?
Smiles are so precious
when they arrive

as morning light seeps
into my room -
not long before I am
here alone -

and as daylight swarms
above my head -
I wonder what I did
and wonder what the
night shall bring?

passed a woman laughing
and wondered why?
I too - wanted to laugh -
laughter is so precious
when laughter is heard

as night comes through
my window of my life
I think of what I did -
here all alone?

and so the night brings
but the end of another
as I close my eyes and
still see nothing -

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved



I have planted for you -
my love of words
but you ignore me
with a focus far
away - you kiss a
stone as if you
never knew me

I have tried to plant seeds
to grow - in your direction
so you too would see how
pleasant - life could be

I have fallen - on you when
you have fallen first –
but if I fell - you too
would only plant a curse

I have grown like rings
of a tree – reaching for
a height where I can see

but I still know –
seedlings grow

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

THE NIGHT BEFORE published in What Brought You Here


A glorious red balloon
it's how he told me
my mouth felt.

The night before he left
he stared at flesh -
no words exchanged
he wanted me to think
kissing was good, and
took his fingers, closed
my eyelids, told me
"It was alright to breathe."

Wondered if men gave
out candy here?

The wrong he did was so . . .
casual for him -
as if he took apart another
puzzle - so singular

People say birds are exotic -
he compared me to a bird.
Wondered if I could have flown?

A bird twists silently out from
its' nest of twigs.

My body settled into summer.
Birds gathered at a feeder -
I feel stillness all so ordinary,
suddenly you are naked -
thinking, the entire
world sees you pass

It is morning and I am again,

I think of how birds
flew - out there, in the open.

Nancy Duci Denofio
published - What Brought You Here
June 2010 page 17

Friday, August 13, 2010

Mineral Baths

Mineral Bath

She covered her private
parts at the bath house.
Mineral water filled a tub,
centuries old.
She felt cold until
an old women handed
her heated sheets -
covering skin.
The woman brought her clips to
lift her auburn hair.
The sheets cooled as the
tub filled.
A stray cat
peered into the window -
purred, kissing glass.
The old women
removes the sheets, grabs the
arm of a young lady - she carefully
steps into aged porcelain.
Tiny bubbles
surround her skin.
A soft pillow for her head;
now, relaxed.
Dreaming she said, “Of a
cat kissing glass,
alone, at last."

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved

Monday, August 2, 2010


The Monster Died is based on Industrial Cities in America, and this is specific to Schenectady NY when the General Electric Company moved much of its operation to other parts of the country, although they have shifted gears with the times, industry moving from large cities is still a cause for change because it was the butter and bread. I congratulate General Electric Company for all the work they have done for others and health care in our Country, and for their contribution to arts and entertainment. I hope you enjoy the relation between a (then) middle class American Family - and the Monster.

The Monster Died

she was a big girl, so – you
wouldn’t take another look,
back then, when guys
were always ready -

right on that corner, she’d
stand, her fat bust’ in
out of her top, think’ in she’s
sexy, not knowing
boys put her name on a list –
one of the homely ones to
pray over -

when she stood at the
corner, boys said it never
needed a stop sign - everyone
stared at the fat girl -
she’d give the finger -

Now she's skin and
bones - lives far from
the city - became some kind
of health care aide, but bet
cha she steals pills -
kind like when she stuffed
girdles and bras into a bag -
I was left holding; after she
fed me a Hot Fudge Sundae.

That, was the last time
I went shopping with a fat
girl - Mama told me she
was too big for me -
knowing Mama, she was talking
about her age.

It isn’t the same, the
and the monster stopped
growing - Papa said,
“The city will die…”

One after another – car after
car - cars with crank out
windows, running boards,
white walls, all stalling out
in one long line - waiting
for the whistle from the
monster - signaling another
work day.

The whistle feeds all the
mouths, helps plant gardens
and educate children -
pay the mortgage.

The monster owns people,
where I were was born the
Monster paid for the holster
and Dale Evans pistol for my
brother… filled the cookie jar,
and gave us enough money
for a parakeet.

The men whom sat in the
board room on the second
floor - just past the ladies room
and under the chandelier,
in front of a wood burning
fireplace, near the maple coat
tree - ran the monster –
or, the monster ruled them.

When the whistle sounded
the city became as weird
as computerization – it moved
together – stop lights longer,
cross walks crowded and
people marching down the
boulevard as ants in perfect
lines -

no one in the city worried,
it was built - cared for by
giants - and the giant ran
the world – built home town

Papa and all the Papas in the
city practically dipped
themselves into chemical
baths - now buried nuclear
waste - empty corn fields
never really empty - never
just grass, or tumble weeds
nestled adjacent to the railroad,
and across from another giant
on the other side of town.

No one thought about disease
or the environment - all they
cared about was if the monster
survived, so would they.

So growing up the boys all
thought the fat girl was the
monster - they found out
differently, when
the real monster died.

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved