It's just poetry, it won't bite

Last minute poet takes the stage


12.31.16 Posted in today's words by

Cary Lynne’s most recent poem to appear here was “Angel Practice” (November 2016)

Last minute poet takes the stage
By Cary Lynne

I look at the poetry reader and notice his chin
There’s a little—very little—stubble on his edges
and I like it. Looks tidy, but not quite
They’re selling cheap Manhattans
in frosty to-go cups, and I’m having plenty
He is speaking, nice voice, modulates well
His cheeks have good bones, they sit high beside his eyes
Eyes that would close nicely in sleep, lashes long
The poem hits a crescendo, his breath caught
I wonder, thinking back, if I know him from somewhere . . .
something in my breathing could know something I don’t
People are clapping; I check the tuck of his ass
beneath thin summer jeans. It’s so hot out here today
Smiles drift around. Must have been a good piece
Dusk on a Sunday, brown eyes young
his big dreams to pen the best book
dedicate it to me, soft in the grass
of a field next to the Catholic school
that neither one of us attended
Dad lost his job and we moved away
I didn’t tell Jonathan, the poet
and never saw him again⏤til today
Shame on me. Chloe is his daughter.



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