{"id":50508,"date":"2019-06-22T15:28:15","date_gmt":"2019-06-22T19:28:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=50508"},"modified":"2019-06-22T15:28:15","modified_gmt":"2019-06-22T19:28:15","slug":"hour-seven-apology-my-friends-boyfriend","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2019\/06\/hour-seven-apology-my-friends-boyfriend\/","title":{"rendered":"Hour seven: Apology: My friend\u2019s boyfriend"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>I do not understand what she sees<br \/>\nin him, his bumps and crevices<br \/>\non full display, unapologetically ugly,<br \/>\nexpecting to be loved exactly the way <\/p>\n<p>he is\u2014 knobby feet in flip-flops,<br \/>\nclothing loose, draping over<br \/>\nthe largest parts of him. He swirls<br \/>\nwine in his glass and tells me <\/p>\n<p>my poem should be in couplets,<br \/>\nnot tercets. He offers no compliments<br \/>\nfirst, no apologies, and I\u2019m not<br \/>\noffended so much as jealous. <\/p>\n<p>I write his comments in my notepad,<br \/>\nquiet in my disagreement, swallowing<br \/>\nmy commentary about how men<br \/>\ndon\u2019t compromise, my fear that <\/p>\n<p>my empathy and masculinity will<br \/>\nalways be at odds, but he catches<br \/>\nmy eye, says hey, you can disagree<br \/>\nif you want. I shouldn\u2019t need <\/p>\n<p>his permission, but I take it.<br \/>\nHe listens before he speaks,<br \/>\nour comments falling into rhythm<br \/>\nlike the punching of a chess clock, <\/p>\n<p>a banter rooted in poetry,<br \/>\nan unapology, an undoing<br \/>\nof my silence.  He\u2019s still wrong<br \/>\nabout the tercets, but I see <\/p>\n<p>for a moment what my friend<br \/>\ndoes, the quick bounce of his wit,<br \/>\nand I wonder if anyone will ever<br \/>\nlove me like that.  <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I do not understand what she sees in him, his bumps and crevices on full display, unapologetically ugly, expecting to be loved exactly the way he is\u2014 knobby feet in flip-flops, clothing loose, draping over the largest parts of him. He swirls wine in his&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1091,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-50508","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50508","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1091"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=50508"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50508\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":50514,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50508\/revisions\/50514"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=50508"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=50508"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=50508"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}