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Literature Text
there is something in the
curt conversation
of former lovers--
the sound and sight
of mourning:
lingering gestures,
cutting eyes
away
trembling lips held
barely steady with the
tips of teeth
the pain in the heart
is the pain in his jaw
he rubs rubs rubs
till red
raw
eyes
shut
tight
and there is
something in the way
former lovers stand together
outward, facing a burial
like strangers at a funeral
Literature
Asthma
His apartment is an aquarium
but he needs a birdcage;
his lungs are shivering,
breath stuck like cold molasses
in his lungs. Sheets ragged as his
breathing tangle around the bed,
white waves surging, cresting,
drowning.
His inhaler is in a shoebox
with the other mementos of 1976;
a bicentennial quarter, a flatcap
from his paperboy days, and a letter
from Sally Keepers, whose kiss
left him so breathless
he mistook it for an attack.
He’s in that Chevrolet
again, knees knocking the backseat,
fighting to breathe, inhaler lost
somewhere on the floorboard
and she’s kissing him, drowning
him, and he can’t get enough air
but he
Literature
meanwhile, stateside
heat in the darkness
your pulse in your fingertips
thoughts of distant skin
Literature
i should have stayed quiet
i tried not to wear my words on a sleeve, but the
poetry poured out anyway,
revealing sorrow
i never thought would surface.
(i was bulletproof once, but my luggage slipped out of
the quarantine zone, and now
i'm coughing up memories, all those seconds
i wished i didn't exist).
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Comments24
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"lingering gestures" ...really captures the moment when you still care for someone and fight the instincts to still want to hold that person when you know they're gone. Great poem. Dead on.