cheat day:
i grew up in a family that preached being calorie conscious
as if the worst thing you could do
was carry weight
in this world
as i write this
i sit here staring at a tub of
100 calorie carb friendly ice cream
brought along on family vacation
for a “cheat day”
Mention Louisville and they all know
Louisville Slugger and batting averages
and statistics going back decades.
They know what the teams were called
before their current names. They can
quote what team, what year, what batter.
Childhood stories of enchantment
of being taken to games still glow
with the shine of legend. Smiles
going round the circle. And only
I, who mentioned Louisville, am story-less,
my interests never including baseball
though I understand the lighted
field is the stuff of myth.
I wanted to sing a soft song
Something from inside
Found in the depth
Somehow sent to the surface
A whale song sounding throughout
The substance that surrounds it
A sound that illuminates
As if sound and light where the same and
Together making this world understandable
Making it a soft song arising
From the medium in which I swim
Reach into the soil.
Keep the rows weed free.
Hedge our future on
these heirloom seeds,
passed down from great-
grandmothers who have toiled
in side yard gardens, juggled
in between the myriad of other
chores to sustain their families.
After sunset and the kitchen cleaned,
they hunched beside dim tables,
to preserve and label little hopes and dreams.
The fruition of their summer’s work,
like these, which now I put to earth,
little jewels wait to burst forth,
to sprout and vine, flower and feed.
Thank you, Josephine Jackson,
for these half-runner greasy beans.
I’m the ghost you tell your friends about
when you say in desperation
head in well-wrung hands
I don’t know what happened
She just left shejustleft
No one knows. No one understands why
she would do that
They have slept no waking nights
spun inside no conversations
I’m the ghost (you made)
I’m the ghost you mourn in private
when you say I don’t understand
She disappeared shedisappeared
We were so close
Amazing how lost one can feel
What did you expect?
to turn your head like a man possessed?
to find me exactly where you left me
waiting?
I’m the ghost
Occasionally haunted
what’s my responsibility here
how much explanation do I owe?
You would have seen my pain
if you were looking
a found poem with lines from several online reviews of a local coffee shop
“Today, I went to this cafe because I’d heard from others that it had the most pleasing aesthetics – I expected Nothing but good experiences here. Maybe it’s the expectations that let me down, me always hoping for a good time and somehow getting hurt. First of all, I tried to chat with the barista and she didn’t seem to care. She just made my pour over – which took 5 minutes, FYI, They make all their drinks meticulously (read: slowly) – and called it out, didn’t ask for my name or invite me to the counter. It reminded me of the way my ex could do something nice, like clean the bathroom, but she didn’t really do it for me. It was a pleasant surprise to have a seemingly careless gesture be so delicious, a comfort after a disappointment. I wanted to love this woman place. Perhaps the service will be different on another day; maybe I’ll try their breakfast sandwich. I will definitely be returning to give her it a second chance. What more can I you ask for?”
June 22, 2012
To The Young Man with Tourette’s Syndrome
Thanks to you and your friends
for being my only audience
at my first attempt to perform
stand-up comedy for 20 minutes.
For y’all’s sake I wish I had been funnier
because at your age, which I assume
was under the legal limit for being in a bar,
but y’all didn’t drink, life can be depressing.
The comic before me made fun of you,
but I engaged you. I wish
I spent more time, letting you
and your friends know life sucks
just be present and do the best you can.
You said it didn’t work,
it was hairy and caterpillarish
and I say at least you have a pet,
don’t forget to take care of it.
As far as your tourette’s
make it your signature
toss your hair, you head, all you want
be a diva, and take all the
eff you’s that come your way
laugh and say back at you son-of-a-bitch.
Be afraid, but not so much
you stay hidden and out of touch.
This world needs more people
to care, be involved, be solution
makers, not the takers, or the hiders.
Don’t be too shy, and I thank the world
I know y’all are alive!!!
Mrs. Getz?
Yes. This is Mrs. Getz.
This is Miss Klein. At the school?
Oh. Yes. Hello, Miss Klein. Everything okay?
Yes. Everything is fine, but Anna would
like to speak with you, please.
Certainly. Put her on. Anna?
Mommy?
Yes, dear.
Mommy?
What is it, Anna?
Mommy. Becky ate my peanut butter and
jelly sandwich. She ate the whole thing.
Even the brown part.
The crust, dear?
Yes, mommy. She ate my sandwich.
I’m sorry, Anna. Perhaps she was
just hungry, dear. Not all children
have as much food as they need, and
it is a good thing to share. Can you forgive
her, Anna?
Yes, mommy. I can forgive her.
Good. I am proud of you, Anna. Now,
please give the phone back to Miss Klein.
Okay, mommy.
Miss Klein?
Miss Klein?
Mrs. Getz?
Yes?
This is Miss Klein. Thank you
for speaking with Anna. Everything
is fine now.
Excuse me?
I said, thank you for speaking with Anna.
Everything is fine now.
No, I heard you. But didn’t you tell me
everything was fine earlier? Before
you put Anna on the phone?
Well, yes ma’am. I suppose I did.
How can it only be fine “now” when
you said everything was fine before? Explain
yourself, Miss Klein.
It was just a figure of speech, ma’am.
A figure of speech?
Yes, ma’am.
Define “figure of speech”, please.
Excuse me?
Define “figure of speech”, please, Miss Klein.
Well, it’s just a way of talking. Of…umm…
Miss Klein?
I’m on the phone with your mother, Anna.
But, Miss Klein?
Yes, Anna, what is it? What is it?
Becky drank my milk.
Sometimes you just live with what happened,
let it lie asleep on the rug at your feet,
since after all it will wake one day
from the dream it’s been dreaming
and raise its head to look you in the face
and ask the very question you’ve been dreading,
to which you wish you had no answer
but you do.
