Range: Musica, Mac’s Backs, #1 Pho, Arnie’s SRO, Facebook
Diet: Zbigniew Herbert, The National, Twin Peaks
Distinguishing Markings: Author of Prairie Fever (Steel Toe Books, 2007) and poems in Crazyhorse, The Iowa Review, Ploughshares, among others. Editor of the Akron Series in Poetry.
Predators: Abstractions, inconsistent punctuation, small spaces
Prey: Sweater vests, clementines, the color blue
WHERE WE WENT FROM HERE
You tried to wear it like a beard
that didn’t fit. You ransacked the pastry
case, said you were picking out a new
whore, even if she was ringed in almonds
and drunker than a ladyfinger could be.
We were under unusual circumstances.
The floors were never quite strong enough
to hold us, but we used them anyway.
It sounded like you said, Put your harm
around me, baby. That was before
our pinstripes outgrew us, trailed off onto
the bedspread and out the window.
It’s nothing that either of us predicted.
I could count all the times it didn’t
happen, like retention ponds you speed
past on the highway, knowing you’ll never
dive in, or fill your thermos with the murk.
How can you count what isn’t in pieces?
You asked for the key to my pajamas
so you could lose it, and beg for another.
Contact info: mb at marybiddinger dot com and http://wordcage.blogspot.com/