Double Negatives
I do not want more, no more feeling of feelings,
The tingles & terror of getting to second base
For the first time—scared to French kiss w/
Braces on braces, faces flush, hands sliding
Slow up her ribs, sure to be turned back
& the rush when they weren’t. The inviting
Eyes, the double-trouble thrill thru the veins
From simultaneously discovering a new body
& the threat of being discovered. Curfew
Is a four-letter word to anyone who ever snuck
Out the laundry-room window to steal
Hood ornaments & chromies off any parked car
On the street. No bird that talks says anything
Useful & not much that anyone says is worth
Repeating. I hate repeating myself more than
I hate the pickpocket who made off w/ my wallet,
My ex-girlfriend’s cockatoo that never stopped
Saying fuck you very very much every time
I walked thru the door, thru the black fence of
A doomed relationship one too many times,
When the simultaneous scorn & good manners
Got to be too much. How does any relationship
Not get to be too much? It’s easy to skip
The daily rundown—How was your day? Why
Do you still talk to her after what she said about
You? What are we doing for dinner? I’m
Spent, let’s hit the sack. I’m sorry I forgot to wash
The dishes. Please don’t take that tone w/ me.
How not to say No the same way twice every day?
Every morning you wake up alone, early—
You think Today will be different. Today is the day
Something will happen: maybe a rain of frogs
Will bring traffic to a hault & I can roll my window
Down & breathe easy. Which is what the Nothing
& pickpockets & the Supreme Court want you
To think. When I am thinking, I start by
Crossing myself—head down to heart, shoulder
To shoulder for the holy ghost, out of respect
& penitence for the unseen forces, because
Thinking is dangerous business & the penitent man
Kneels before whatever god rewards humility,
Records shame & damage incidents. The line
Is too long & too hard for many of us to walk,
To not read ahead, to trust the tour guide w/
Our lives. Salvation comes scoop by tiny scoop,
Smaller than half a teaspoon. Never ask me what
I am unless you can first explain what you are—
A cast away, a double negative, a caterpillar w/out
A mouth for silk, kicking yourself a hundred times.
How far we can see around the perimeter will not
Save either of us w/out deploying our heaviest artillery.
Posted 08/10/13
For Matthew Guenette and all my fellow classmates in his "Kickstarting the Muse" workshop that was part of the David R. Collins Writers Conference at St. Ambrose University in Davenport, IA June 27-29, 2013. This poem was written using a "surreal questionnaire," the responses to which were generated by my classmates.