The Poetry Marathon

They throw their hands up

Bemoan their rebel daughters

Who long for freedom

Despite warnings

We all believe

In a vacuum

That surrounds

And

Brings art

Into the party

Before

Inevitably

Every super group

Individually

Combining

As if they were an

Endlessly drab

Theme park ride

You will find it funny,

How many of those Death Cab songs you like so much, those modern fairy tales

Seem to have come true

But don’t worry so much.

Not because there’s  nothing to worry about

Time won’t cure you of that

But because you dont know what to worry about

And because it tends to get in the way of the good things that are coming

I prefer a London fog

She takes her coffee black

There are windows on the street front

We hole up in the back

The sight of all the concrete

It’s too much for us to bear

We come from green fir forests

And wish we were still there

In the dark, woodpaneled corner

Of the neighborhood cafe

We remember hush of mornings

When moonbeams met the day

It struck me as the name of

A vessel in distress

Like Titanic, mortally wounded and sinking

It called to mind daring rescues and

War movies and Tom Hanks, for some reason

It was my mother’s favorite

And I knew it was about rabbits

But it bored me and the other imagery took over

And I forgot about it

Until I left home and came back enough times to need something to tether me to her

To myself

To our childhoods

To the ways we are so alike

He is loud

and he kicks tables

and when he drinks too much he’s never sorry

I am stubborn

and overly careful

and I cry all the time

and together we are perfection

I lie admiring your vulnerability

Like the fresh pink skin under a scab

How you wrap yourself in it

And become stronger

More beautiful

The places where you’ve stitched yourself together

Allow light to escape

I can see the keys

Ready just where I left them

The doorknob rattles

Everyone I ever knew

Has crowded onto my bed

Which is impossibly large and only grows

But I can see their faces each so clearly

Their mouths opening to speak

All one wordless noise

And then they’re gone

Proportions restored

And there you are

Breathing softly

Beside me

I have taken an offering

Meant for others

And broken a chain of understanding

And rendered intent directionless, untethered

And made of it something more beautiful than could have been achieved by following the rules.