for Celeste

I’m not a very funny person.
I mean, I can make a joke occasionally,
but in general it’s nothing like the laughter
that can be brought out by my brother
or any number of friends.
I wish I could say something
that has comfort and humor in every word of it,
that could make you slip into giggles whenever you heard it,
where even the thought of it
would make a day great.

But I can’t think of it.

I guess
all I can say
is that if I saw him I’d–
what? attack him with poetry? It might not be
the most frightening thing,
but I could blast those words so fast that they’d sting,
I’d start to scream,
I’d go all spoken word and slam and terms
that he’s never heard
and intimidate him out of the atmosphere–
or something.

Not only
am I not exactly funny,
most days I don’t feel
particularly poetic or anything;
all I’ve got
is some overdone perseverance, so, heck,
twenty years from now on his front steps
he’ll find this random redhead chick
(not you– me)
and be freaked
out and ask something
stupid such as, “Who are you?”
and I’ll say something like,
“Remember the time
you held an asteroid in your arms
and walked off to earth
as though anyone that amazing
could be compatible with bland land
and blighted light? Did you think
she wouldn’t suffocate amid mold?
How could you leave a light source?
She is star-sunken spaceship stellar,
an appearance of pure power.
She is luminous.”
I’ll overwhelm his ears
with all the statements he can’t stand to hear,
and every kind of literary device,
alliteration, metaphor, rhyme,
until he tries to disappear
and slam the door in my face, muttering about
“Poets these days!”—

I have a hard time forgiving.

But though I can’t say
that I have many qualities
that I’m proud to see inside me,
I have a tough type of loyalty;
maybe poetry is all I can give you,
and maybe it won’t make you laugh,
but I hope I can communicate
what I’m trying to say,
which is, we’re here.
Yeah, sometimes
existence is exhausting,
and we’re moving
through foggy caffeine,
but I’ll never say that you have to be standing,
just that I can’t let you forget me.
So, though there are 276 miles between our respective locations,
though everything is relative if you have the time to think,
though I don’t know when I’ll see you again,
I’ll somehow set up a running tab
at a midway point Ben & Jerry’s,
order sixteen ice creams,
and even if it takes me until heaven, I’ll tell you
that this bowlful is the best
I have ever had.


4 thoughts on “Response”

  1. ” ‘ Remember that time you held an asteroid in your arms…’ ” Oh my word I love you so much you are wonderful this is the epitamy of perfection. I love

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