Library of Congress

Site Title Here

The Library of Congress > Poetry & Literature> Poet Laureate > Past Poet Laureate Projects > Poetry 180 > Full List of Poems > Poem 156
{ site_name: 'Poetry', subscribe_url:'/share/sites/library-of-congress/poetry.php' }

Back to Full List of 180 Poems


My science teacher said 
there are no monographs
on the dandelion.

Unlike the Venus fly-trap
or Calopogon pulchellus,
it is not a plant worthy of scrutiny.

It goes on television
between the poison squirt bottles,
during commercial breakaways from Ricki Lake.

But that's how life
to my home.

where they make you do
what you don't want to do.

Moms with Uzis of reproach,
dads with their silencers.
(My parents watch me closely because I am their jewel.)

So no one knows how strong
a dandelion is inside,
how its parts stick together,
bract, involucre, pappus,
how it clings to its fragile self.

There are 188 florets in a bloom,
which might seem a peculiar number,
but there are 188,000 square feet
in the perfectly proportioned Wal-Mart,
which allows for circulation
without getting lost.

I wish I could grow like a dandelion,
from gold to thin white hair,
and be carried on a breeze
to the next yard.

—Julie Lechevsky

from Poems & Plays, Number 8, Spring/Summer 2001
Middle Tennessee State University

Copyright 2001 by Julie Lechevsky.
All rights reserved.

Reprinted by permission of Oberlin College Press from Poems & Plays. Copyright 2001 by Julie Lechevsky. For further permissions information, contact Julie Lechevsky, 905 Preston Avenue, Blacksburg, VA 24060.

Poetry 180

About the Poet

Julie Lechevsky is the author of three poetry collections, including Kiss (Quercus Review Press, 2005). Having attended Oberlin College, she currently lives in Blacksburg, Virginia.