Waiting
by Jennifer Cunningham
For every book you
read, recall the tale
that inspired it.
Once upon a time
there was a beetle
who woke (or whoke)
as Poor Tom,
suddenly a name, a man,
suddenly one person,
stuck with that.
You are just one.
There is the injury.
There is a new injury
that I'm going to start,
a new twin for Juliet.
Forms to fill out, it kills
her, this every part
of life to fill. That is too easy,
melting all day into name, date,
employer, contact me.
Oh, the tree drowned in fog
you say, and we were just
waiting (or waaaaiting)
heel, heel, waiting room
every state, a poem
every student, a poem
every moment around me,
a poem. Twelfth Night
it was so predictable, my student,
my poem in eyeliner,
says. Is there no joy
in those clicks, those heels,
a rapid click
into place? The huge-eyed
Olivia with double the love,
the Duke shifting fire, and
the Fool, rubbing his cheek.
VoxPoetica encourages Takoma Park and Silver Spring residents to submit their work.
E-mail your poems to poet@takoma.com,
or mail them to the Takoma Voice / Silver Spring Voice, 6935 Laurel Ave., suite 207, Takoma Park, MD 20912.
The editor of VoxPoetica is Don Berger, Poet Laureate of Takoma Park.
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