Critique Night
Magicians
cut to the chase
discern
the poem’s soul
de-clutter
re-arrange
replace words
to a keen shine
proper cadence.
How not to fall
in love with
such deft
touch?
Magicians
cut to the chase
discern
the poem’s soul
de-clutter
re-arrange
replace words
to a keen shine
proper cadence.
How not to fall
in love with
such deft
touch?
In a fever dream I saw you, sitting in that field
in Ohio.
It is twenty years ago and I am there too,
Naive, homesick, talking fast and crying faster.
You have come to find me; you have brought
toilet paper
How did you know my face was leaking?
I always say the strangest things but
You are not afraid. You do not run away,
rather,
You draw near and hold me when I feel too wild
You stand up for me when I am treated unfairly
You hold my hand and dry my tears and I am
thankful
For our summer romance and for you teaching me
I wasn’t too much to love.
we drive for miles in opposite directions.
if you know where you’re going before
you get there, sometimes you’ll find yourself
lost. here: I will stop for you
to catch up, to find your way, to make sense
of these windings
in the road, the concrete and tarmac cutting out
through fields of wheat whose seeds
are moving on the wind, like us
reaching for the furthest point
in all possible ways, “whatever” means necessary.
I’ll tell you right now
I don’t know Spanish.
Un poco solamente.
Only a little,
Two years ago I got ordained as a joke.
Next, I officiated a wedding
in Spanish.
The entire ceremony
in Spanish.
More than un poco.
Moments before,
the bride has offered me a shot of patron
I hesitated before turning it down
I can barely roll my r’s as is.
Rrrrrrr.
I wore my moms preaching robe.
I stood at the front of the room,
Reading the vows outloud.
Repeten con migo.
Repeat after me..
In the back of the room
was my partner
He tried not to laugh
I made eye contact with him
Only for a moment.
I couldn’t blow my cover.
I didn’t want him to either.
That night I imagined what I’d want to say
In a room full of witnesses
Who knew me too well
To expect me to stand in a wedding dress
Without laughing too hard
For my own good.
I think when the day comes
I’ll tell you,
Tell them,
myself even;
Thank you.
Thank you to this love,
This wild absurd world.
I promise to love you
No matter how many times
You blow my cover.
I dont have it together,
Un poco solamente.
Somedays, I think.
I promise to remember the time you got stung by a jellyfish.
I threw a fit because you wouldn’t let me pee on you.
On the way to the beach,
I asked if you believed
the earth was flat.
You pulled the car over.
Looked me dead in the eyes and said,
“Do you believe it is?”
So what if I do, would you love me.
“Yes, but we’d go to counseling.
You’d go to a science class.”
The air smelled of saltwater.
I promise to tell our grandkids
I once plucked a hair
From the top of your foot
You almost cried.
I caught you googling,
“How to deal with grief.”
You told me,
I dont deal with grief.
Not well.
Not even a little bit…
Un poco.
On the day of my friends death
We fucked in our first apartment.
I pointed to the sky and whispered
This one’s for you.
You shook your head.
There was no cover on us to blow.
Only you.
I wont tell our grandkids that part.
You get it,
Me, that is.
In all my scatterbrained ways,
You’ve learned what to expect.
Loved me anyways.
When I stomp upstairs after a fight,
Tell you “you’re supposed to follow me.”
“You’re supposed to apologize.”
You do, you always do.
Even when it’s not your sorry to give
Even when we both know
you’re not supposed to.
I’d only learned to give
what I believed to be someone else’s…
all the parts of me,
As if they belonged to anyone else.
You gave them all back.
Exposed, uncovered.
You knew there were wounds.
You didn’t ask me to close them.
Only to open this heart a little more,
Knowing it might hurt.
Knowing it probably will.
And hoping all along its worth it.
It’s worth it.
I’ll tell the whole room
All these witnesses
that this scares me.
This love thing.
This wild absurd world.
Flat or not.
This open heart,
That opens a little further.
Un poco.
For You…
you.
Thank you.
For Always,
Always Blowing my cover.
Unearthed a miracle,new escape lyrical
old hand and cynical
still a man
in this place
appalachian;human race
contemporary probate
we stand alone in a lone state
charmed life here
charm in the air
shoot it all down
hold it all,rare
Auld Lang Syne
New Year’s morning,
living room a mess,
and a large “plum”
colored stain stood out
on the beige carpeting.
Mom said Aunt Sophie got
a little tipsy celebrating
last night. Why didn’t
they make her clean
up her own mess?
