Poems by Lynne Thompson ​

The Text Chronicles
 
“Lynne: We’re still missing your Social Security Survey [This is our third and FINAL
attempt].
                            “Hi! It’s Tammy Duckworth”. “Hi, It’s Jon Ossoff.” “Hi Family, it’s Cory
Booker.” (Are we supposed to be related?!) “Hey Miss Lin, it’s Maxwell Frost…you’ve been
selected to represent your zip code.”
 
                                                                             11:46 p.m. “Hi Lynne: you’re the last person
in your zip code who hasn’t responded to my survey. Can you please respond before
midnight?” 
 
                                                           Interlude (Not from ActBlue):
                                                    Knix Anniversary Sale Ends Next Week
                                                [and your favorite panties are almost sold out]

 
6:33 a.m. “Your Medicare Survey is attached…only NINE QUESTIONS!”  Enter Stop to Quit.
 
“…you’re the last endorsement we need!”  “We have SIX HOURS left to save Social
Security.” “Hi Lyn.” “Hi Lynnie,” “Hi Louise.” “Miss Lynn, will you pitch in just $1 today to
become a FOUNDING DONOR…?” Really? I’ve entered stop to quit.  “Thank you for
everything you’ve done but I need $500,000 to reach my goal….” “There’s no time to lose
which is why I’m asking YOU to join my team…”
                                                                                                                                                
                                                              Interlude (Not from DSCC):
                                                  Naked & Thriving: Take A Spa Day on Us
​
 
                                                                                                              “We will crush MAGA
if EVERYONE gives $10!” “Make an early $15 donation today for TOP IMPACT.” “Can you
rush $37 or anything you can spare…?? ” “Please rush $45 or anything you can afford to
support the No Kings Act, then (and only then??!) read every word of this text.” “President
​Barack Obama gave us a call to action and Americans EVERYWHERE answered his
call…except for YOU…”
 
                                                                   “Hi Zip Code 90042, it’s James Carville. I won’t
lie. I’m about to talk your freakin’ ears off. We’re inches away from taking back the House.”
 
  
                                           Interlude (Not from Democracy Headquarters):
                                                Ways to Increase Your Breast Size Naturally
 
4:43 p.m. “Lynne: We’re STILL missing your social security survey.” [Attempts four through
seventeen].  Entering stop to quit, you effin’ liars!
 
                                                                “Dear LynneElaineThompson, my mother is running
for Congress in Eagle, Idaho; can you help her out…?” “Dear LynneET, I’m five years old (see
picture to see how cute I am) and my favorite uncle is running for Postmaster in Mountain
Home, Arkansas; can you help him out?”  “Dear Mis lyne, you don’t know me but could you
send money?  I need $1 million.”
 
                                                                                                                        “Our war chest is
virtually empty and NO ONE in your zip code has answered.” “But I still have hope because
there are people like my mommy in this fight….”
 
                                                                             Interlude:
                                                           (just before another midnight):
 
                                                               Don’t waste this last chance!
                                                   Your 15% coupon will not be available 



Bread Pudding
 
My mother’s irked, tries to insult me: you write poems.
In reply, I irk:  you make bread pudding. We separate.
When people hungry for some sweet thing stick to rib
she says and says, to which I insist the same with poems.
She raises an eyebrow. Some people don’t understand a
single word just like they don’t understand you keeping
the mystery of  your making secret from us for so many
years then Mother goes quiet, breaks the days-old bread
into pieces in a large, green bowl, takes milk from where
it and three eggs keep cold, melts butter, adds cinnamon,
ginger, and raisins to the bowl, seasons all of it with her
Caribbean fingers, then turns the goop into a pan to bake
until it’s Bequia-brown & I knead my poems just like that.
 

Lynne Thompson served as Poet Laureate for the City of Los Angeles (2021-2022) and received a Laureate Fellowship from the Academy of American Poets. She is the author of four collections of poetry, most recently Blue on a Blue Palette (BOA Editions, 2024). Thompson serves on the Boards of Scripps College, the Poetry Foundation, Los Angeles Review of Books, and is the current President of Cave Canem. Her recent work can be found or is forthcoming in the Georgia Review, Kenyon Review, and Gulf Coast, among others.

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