Origami Poems Project Logo

Lourdes Tutaine-Garcia

Lourdes cover      Lourdes Tutaine-Garcia is Cuban by birth, American by citizenship, Cuban-New Englander by culture. She lives in Mid-coast Maine where she listens to what the ocean has to say, then runs home to write it down. Her work has appeared in many journals, including Metafore, The Adanna Literary Journal, Avocet, and Cathexis Northwest Press.  Blanket Sea nominated one of her poems for Sundress Publications 2019 Best of the Net. In 2018, BestLit Review selected her as one of the ten best prose writers in mid-coast Maine.

 

 

 


 ►   Lourdes Tutaine-Garcia's microchap is available below. Download the single-page PDF by clicking the title & saving to your pc. Set your printer for 'landscape' printing. Folding instructions are under the Who We Are menu tab.

 

Origami Microchap

Ink Ribbon and Typewriter

 

Click title to download PDF microchap

 

Lourdes Tutaine Garcia CVR Ink Ribbon and Typewriter 2021 

Cover collage by Jan Keough

using 'Flower Galaxy' by Lauri Burke

• 

Two gals
in our eighties, drank
cocoa and ate a box
of elephant ears—
flaky, sneaky pastries,
that weigh nothing until
they turn to cellulite on thighs.

Loaded on sugar, we wrote poetry
on an antique Underwood
with keys so stiff, we heaved
with passion to make them give up
the letters hiding in the ribbon.

*

 

Red letter by black letter,

we typed the profane poetry

of forbidden words

shit   FUCK   asS  

motherFUCKER cunt

bullocks     TWAT

tITS   Shlong

 

Years of suppression released,

apprehension demystified,

wickedness set loose on typing paper.

All for us. Propriety be damned.

The evening doesn’t translate well

without the tears of hilarity and snot.

You had to be there. You had to be us.

 

When we told the nephews

(adult ones only), they stared

as if we spoke of a primordial subject

in a dead language.

                 One asked what an Underwood was.

                 Another could not understand

                 why we couldn’t print two copies

                 instead of using carbon paper.

 

Call that evening a thrill with chills

for tiny lives raised on table manners,

educated with intimidating vocabularies

that can politely shove a person against a wall

with sarcasm—and no raised voices.

You had to be there, I guess.

You had to be us.

Not one comprehended

the joy of typing censored words

in CAPITAL RED letters.

 

 

Call that evening a thrill with chills

for tiny lives raised on table manners,

educated with intimidating vocabularies

that can politely shove a person against a wall

with sarcasm—and no raised voices.

You had to be there, I guess.

You had to be us.

 

Lourdes Tutaine-Garcia © 2021