In a restaurant with many windows,
the angel of the envious
flutters above two lovebirds.
Look away, look away, she whispers
to the woman sitting solo at a table.
Lift your eyes, she says,
to a nice glass of afternoon.
Drink to bristling motel managers
and their “Quiet down in there,”-s
and to your devious assurances
to turn down the TV
which wasn’t on.
Drink to your lover, sweetly
indignant at paper-thin walls.
“We’re such old fools,”
the angel quivers.
§
Sometimes end-stops take a long leave of absence
before they grace the right side of the white page,
the heart pumping door slams.
Halts. Marks. Dots.
Dot. Not period. A short
story contains twenty? fifty?
periods. Plus the I period.
The He period. The She period,
when more than once…oh, he
was freshly showered and interested…
cheeks shaved, shining…
hair still wet but combed…
dot, dot, dot,
his clean white T-Shirt off,
tap, tap, tap… the entire
violin section tucked in their chins.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 16, Issue 1.
Sharon Chmielarz’s latest books of poetry are Love from the Yellowstone Trail (2013), Calling, a finalist in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards, 2011, and The Sky Is Great the Sky Is Blue. She’s the recipient of the 2012 Jane Kenyon Award from Water~Stone Review.
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