I think my favorite thing so far
is how he already
treats me
with the acuity
of an old friend; embracing
flaws, teasing out quirks and telling me
his dirty jokes because he knows
I’ll laugh just as hard
and then we’ll stare
a little while, smirking in a somewhat
disbelieving silence,
still reeling from the moment just after
I knocked and he called,
“Come in.”
you love your women
like you love a good song;
you don’t know the words,
but you still sing along.
This ladybug
has been exploring my carpet
all morning and I don’t understand
why it doesn’t use its wings to fly to less
monotonous territory
instead of doggedly clambering
over every tuft,
intent only on its goal and seemingly
oblivious to the redundancy
of its actions- content to traverse its mini moonscape
in solitude, probably humming to itself
as it goes.
sixteen sweaters
for washing dishes
keeps a body warm
fingerless gloves
and fuzzy hats
keep the heating bill low,
but snuggles and hugs
are the best source of heat
on a blustery day like today
and I’m wishing my feet-
as they warm up the sheets-
weren’t doing their friction dance
solo.
Most days are breakfast
gulped, lunches packed, sunscreen
slathered, dinner served, lights
out routine-tame.
Some days every step is chutes
and ladders, conversations become
shouting matches, nothing
is where you left it, the dog
gets sprayed by a skunk right at
bed time and at 2am you find yourself still
doing laundry.
But there are also crystal
moments when the room is full of
music, when everyone agrees
the joke is funny, when the offers to help
outnumber the requests and an empty
lap becomes a willing pillow
for a sleepy head.
I was going back through old journals last night and found a couple of lines I’d written- the first and last lines of this poem- and decided to see if I could write a poem from one line to the next. Here ’tis.
So What’ll it be?
Your place
or mine or the ocean
in between? What language
should we use? Which words would you
choose to have me declare
my devotion? See, that’s where
you must be confused
if you think I’d drop it all
to follow in your footsteps
when you can’t even decide
if you agree with those three
words. I think it’s time
we had a linguistics lesson- you
must be forgetting
your mother
tongue- the words your mother spoke
first, the words that carry
a world, that wove your life threads,
that hold you even
in solitude. This lesson isn’t free, but I know
you don’t like exchange
rates, so I’ll offer you a deal- you pay
what you want, but just so you know-
here’s the suggested
donation: your heart or
resignation.
I am swallowing
raw garlic like ibuprofen pills and devouring
kale salad like it’s my job.
Last night I sneezed with Airborne still
in my mouth and almost caused
my keyboard to be a casualty of this
war. My mother used to tell me my body
was a castle, with soldiers to protect me
from sniffles and upset tummies. You have
to help them fight, she’d say, by eating all these
green leafy things you normally leave
on your plate before you declare
the only room left in your stomach
is for dessert. Well, check it out mom- I’m following
your advice and enjoying every bite, but still
I have the thought that I must be really sick
if this is more appealing
than a brownie.
If she- theoretically-
were to half-step
incrementally
closer like Zeno’s
Paradox, testing
the tension between
two bodies,
which formula would you use to determine
the location (l) at which temptation (t)
overrides acceleration (a) to create
enough force (f) to propel
her across the ground (g) until
the friction coefficient (x) becomes
irrelevant?
I never took
a physics class. Did you?
10) sweeping and mopping entire apartment floor
9) checking my email 39,872,367 times
8) going grocery shopping
7) putting away laundry
6) calling my sister
5) cooking
4) dishes
3) sleep
2) yoga
1) making a list of ways to procrastinate and then turning it into a poem to share.
Writing daily feels
like potty training
a puppy.
You encourage
the puppy to pee
even when
you aren’t sure she wants
or needs to.
If you catch her peeing
where she’s meant to, don’t
say anything- this will startle the
puppy and disrupt
her flow.
Instead, wait quietly
to the side- observing her
and allowing her
to finish. Then praise her
profusely
and offer her
a treat.
Nonlinear Navigations: Poetry and Prose 