This poem is thumping like a boulder
at the bottom of a river
And last year’s hit
is fighting static on the radio
We sat against the waves
all day yesterday
I still feel the rocking
That anti-movement
The best part of a meal is right when the food arrives
I’d rather stay hungry than be satisfied
to stop wanting
to stop chasing
I sleep on the ground
to be farther away from you
the whole time we were stock images
choreographed feelings
unrealistic props
and a well timed photographer
Now we’re stopping in yesterday’s parking lot
and today’s hit has turned jarring.
They’ll be running our circles
long after we die.
I made a dozen
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
before my mother came home
and took the knife out of my hand
I’m running to you
like you’re a pint of Ben & Jerry's
and I'm lactose intolerant
It stays in my mind
like choking on medicine
It’s like that pregnant silence
when the waiter asks
“together or separate?”
It’s like driving up a mountain
or criticizing the lack of representation in a Hallmark movie
alone from my couch.
There’s nothing poetic about stalking you on twitter.
but it’s part of the story so here’s a stanza about it anyway.
[Pause for effect]
I hope next time we meet
you’ll ask me how I am
I’ll tell you I am super
and both of us will believe it
again
I hope one of us will smile and say
“0ne day”
and the other will notice the typo.