Bio Note: I write poetry because it helps me make sense of the world around and inside me. It piques my interest in the past and prods me to think more about the present and the future. I find the act of writing poetry joyful and self-reinforcing, even when the content of my poems is about sad or traumatic events.
Showing up punctually is not a possibility when what should’ve been done the day before is being done right before we head out to fill in the blank, we’re on the road, making calls, the cat threw up, the traffic’s bad, climate change is not a hoax but if it was we’d still be late for parties, the theater, the flight we missed to Florida, the cab was there, the roads were clear, four hours prep was not enough to board the plane to Delray Beach, Flamingo Punch, a poolside lunch, sitting in an airport lounge, where’s your cellphone, dresser drawer, fully charged, mine’s there too, let’s go home, have a beer, tomorrow get our ass in gear.
She says she can’t get a word in edgewise, which may be true, but if she’s calling the balls and strikes how can she concurrently be up at the plate waiting for a curveball she believes I’m going to throw her when I haven’t decided what pitch to fling to the catcher sitting in my skull, who’s motioning for a fast ball, which may not be the best idea, as she may be looking for a heater she can hit out of the ballpark and into the parking lot where we’re sitting in a car and I’m pondering whether I should lob a change of pace and ask her to forgive me for being such a lousy listener.
©2020 Martin H. Levinson
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to tell her or him. You might say what it is about the poem that moves you. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL