Things I want to feel:
Dog fur on unsuspecting Tuesdays
Their oily dandruff beneath overgrown nails.
Snow sinking into “waterproof” boots and
Dampening striped wool socks, unmatched.
Words pressing their warm bellies against the insides of my eyelids
Writing the world for me with their contortionism.
Things I do:
Try unfalteringly not to bite my nails,
If he isn’t going to get an engineer for a daughter, I have to give my
Father something to be proud of.
Watch tiny quivers in lower lips,
Curled in the semblance of March rain and new ideas.
Fall asleep on untouched pillows
Fingers poised across a protesting keyboard.
Things I want to understand:
Why yeast can make both bread and dorm room brews,
Spilled College champagne on greasy carpets.
Why I can’t string sentences out loud but I
Am performance art on paper.
Why I never wanted to write sonnets until I fell in love.