a night in a small boat with a book of recipes
a night in a small boat with a book of recipes
by Eric Sterling
I carved your initials in my leg with
a kitchen knife
and didn’t wash it
before putting it back
so that when the knife is
walking through our neighborhood
and is below a street lamp
the shadow that it casts will partially read
your name.
You see,
I’ve been waiting for your call
but am acting like I’m interested
in the girl playing darts
When really she reminds me of
the smiling mannequin in all
5×7 picture frames.
I’ve disciplined myself for dreaming about you.
I spent the next 2 weeks food budget
on silk panties
and plan
to hang them from the power lines
outside of your window.
My father came up with the idea that you can trick red lights
into thinking you’re a fire
engine by flashing your headlights
as you greet them at the
intersections.
I disagree,
and normally get excited as
I approach my stop
anticipating a lonely woman
next to me at the light
asking if I know
how to get back on
the interstate.
Loved the dislocated feel of this poem. The word choices were superb, and this is a very haunting, yet intriguing piece. Nice!