March 2024
Bio Note: Two of my poetry books, A Boat That Can Carry Two (2011) and Talk (2019) were published by Bordighera Press. A third, the empty field, was published in 2022 by Red Moon Press. I’ve recently placed poems in Typehouse, Modern Poetry Quarterly Review, and Poetry Wales. Born and raised in New Jersey, I’m currently a senior lecturer in the English department at The Ohio State University in Columbus.
Finding My Religion
Every poem is another moment of regret
for not having finished the last one; each day
an attempt to remain standing in spite
of the tidal bore forcing your mouth shut.
Sunday dusk filters through the windows, dust,
and trees. The house is empty but for wine
and a certain song that keeps coming back,
unbidden, every waking moment. Be careful
what you love too much. You’re never alone
with the melody of your last life but relive
it with the tenacity of squirrels in the attic:
no way in, no way out. The sun sets, the clock
moves forward and all you’ve got to show
is an empty sheaf of white space on every page
you’ve written where nothing happens.
That, and a roof, a few dollars, and dinner.
Four Theories of the Tidy Mind
One:
Throw away nothing.
Keep it in piles,
haphazardly stacked
as in the aisles
of that bookstore
out on College Road
where the owner
smoked and smoked.
Leave a few goat trails
in case of fire,
although once the windows
are boarded and blocked,
you’ll never want to leave.
In this way, nothing is ever lost
or needs to be believed.
Two:
Throw away every other thing.
No cheating.
This photo of dad goes,
that magazine, your best hat.
Money too –
it goes on the pile
to be swept to the alley,
along with your car and wife.
Even that rusty Barlow knife
you didn’t know you had.
At first you’ll be sad,
then mad,
but then you’ll forget.
Three:
Throw away half of each thing.
Decide with an axe or matches.
Break the vases evenly.
Make flames do the work
you’ve so long avoided.
You’ll be tempted
to save half the ashes
and shattered glass for crafts,
but don’t give in.
Ask yourself how you ever
had room for dishes and rings.
A torn shirt will make a sling
for your broken arm.
Four:
Throw away everything
and it’s all nothing.
You won’t. Just kidding.
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to say what it is about the poem you like. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL