The Poetry Marathon

Hands brush over
Tired skin
Rushing to hold
Wrapping tight
Cradling close
Whispers of reassurances
The only thing heard

Lights turn off
Lights remain
Twinkling red
Blue
Green
Eyes ricochet
Across the space
From light to light
Trying to draw constellations
In the dark
Maybe this will guide us home

i wish i was elsewhere
i wish i was anywhere
i wish i was home
i wish i was in the river
i wish i was asleep
i wish i was awake
i wish i was drunk
i wish i was sober for the rest of my life
i wish i was away
i wish i was here
i wish i was with you
i wish i was alone at the bottom of the sea

i wish i was… anywhere, anything, anyone
other than this

I wake up
I ruffle my hair
It has been growing out
Since my last hair cut
In late January

I stand
I ruffle my hair
Sleeping has caused it
To stick out at weird angles
And resemble Beakman’s doo

I put my bagel in the toaster oven
I ruffle my hair
While waiting for my bagel to toast
And sigh in impatience
And hunger

I sit down at my tablet
I ruffle my hair
Trying to shake the sleep from my brain
Remember what it is I need to do today
And ease sensory needs

I lean over my work
Both hands ruffle my hair
In times of stress
My fingers rub through my mane
Trying to will my brain into calm

I sit in my recliner
I ruffle my hair slowly
With one hand
At last
My brain can rest

I turn out the lights
I ruffle my hair
Lay down on the pillows
Burrow into the covers
And finally fall asleep

There was some open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe, but nothing could be done about it, and if you can’t fix it you’ve got to stand it.

-Brokeback Mountain by Annie Proulx

There was supposed to be
open space for everything
to be as they were

Some way for things to be
what he knew and
always held dear

He tried to believe
that there was a way
it could be done

But he was caught between
the memories of something wonderful
and the nothing they were offering

About this time
old words came back to him
from a story he once read

And rang in his head
like a bell ringing over and over
if you can’t fix it you’ve got to stand it

I light a cigarette
And slowly blow out the smoke
While sitting on the rooftop
Of this Italian villa

I’ve never been to Italy
But being stuck inside for three months
Has caused me to start daydreaming
And making lists of where I want to be

But back to my Italian villa

It’s evening
The weather is cool
The moon is full
And the city below is asleep

My stomach is filled with good food
My head is full of good wine
And I have snuck out onto the roof
To have this clandestine cigarette

I haven’t had one since before the quarantine
And I didn’t dare have one for a good while after
Afraid of putting my lungs at a disadvantage
I have avoided my favorite self-destruction

Oh please, by all the stars in the heavens
Let me have this moment
In three years or more
Let me be smoking a cigarette on a rooftop in Italy

The unexpected message
Which gets you out of the house
And causes you to have your first hug in three months
Followed by long conversation
About family
Gets you behind in your poetry marathon

Catch up!

I pull myself from my lethargy
Curled in the bed of my cottage

The morning is cold
I can see the mist on the treeline
Through the bedroom window
The wine bottle on the porch
Lights with the last firefly of the evening
Leaving to hibernate for the day

I wrap myself in the comforter
Still warm from the heat of my body

You are making porridge on the stove
Left discarded on the table
Is the mask you wore last night
When we decided to have that strange party
With all our friends
Via zoom

I walk out onto the porch
My toes curl inwards from the cold

You come up behind me with a cup of coffee
I wrap my hands around it and feel the heat of your love
You wrap your arms around me
And we watch sparrows zooming through the trees
You return to tend to the porridge
And I sip on my coffee

I walk back into the cottage
And sit at the kitchen table

I fiddle with the mask on the table
My lethargy still pulling at my bones
You kiss me on the forehead
And my heart skips a beat
Just as it always does
While alone with you

“O Captain! My Captain!”
Always makes me think of classroom rebellion
Standing on desks
Ripping out inconsequential sections of books
Trying to find the truth
The actual truth hidden in the words
Instead of what
Our teachers always want us to think

It was a strange time
When we wore masques

We hid behind them
The ones that we chose
Whether we realized it or not

We took on the masque of truth
We took on the masque of the fool
We took on the masque of reason
We took on the masque of prejudice
We took on the masque of kindness
We took on the masque of cruelty

Hidden behind our masques
We were finally truthful
In an age of artifice