Erin Adair-Hodges
Can't Someone Just Shut Up
and love me already I mean
can't someone just come over here
drive then fly then drive
back out of the one-way, get lost
in the alley
and still find their way to my door?
I gotta do everything around here?
Flatten this tum-tum, bake
that real homemade bread all
by hand with yeast and everything?
Now I have to be the poem
I also have to write?
But who am I supposed to sue
and when have I had time
to become a lawyer much less
bear the load of loving me?
I haven't even been to the lake
this glass city sleeps on — my hair
wires with the rumor of it.
Billions of you other
motherfuckers and still there isn't enough
appetite in this house
to go through a dozen eggs.
Oh you know what I'll do you know I'll
drive around one hand on the wheel
the other launching bombs
these tiny never-chickens
through the window I've rolled down
just in time, music on, music
loud. Shush your tongue's tsk tsk.
I've sinned past guilt.
That shit was organic and on the verge
of rot. You should have heard them
like stars unshooting
singing through the air.
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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