Arsenic Lobster
poetry journal |
Issue Nine Winter 2005 |
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from Poem for Cheryl Martella Ted Lardner She will be studying, but if it’s a good weekend to go and be somewhere else, I will take her to Florida. She will rise out of her desk in Mr. Swisher’s social studies class, up, up, above and out, away from the car where drunk and red-headed she died. To stay in her way, I will kiss her. If she is someone’s girlfriend, if she comes back junior year, still I will hold her warm hand the plane ride there, the beach, foam, cushions. I will bring her lunch by the water. She will make new best friends. Gina or Nancy Wild is a real estate agent, or engineer. Tommy Soliano hangs dry wall. John Bincent with exotic animals tours the south. I will stay while they talk. Later I will give her light massages, until her skin sleep-walks with touch, feet way down there, arms way up here, her soul, her eyes growing rounder and rounder. Cheryl, I will say, just come. How far won’t matter. If you have them in your winter coat, bring cigarettes. You aren’t afraid of detention. Your mom can’t believe everything. |