Missed Connections in Portland, OR
The Moon Is Full Again
This one is a work in progress
When it’s finished
I’ll call it “surrender”
And deliver it to you
In your apartment
On the hill.
You’ll serve me wine
And laugh your nervous laugh
I’ll look at your legs
And try to talk seriously
You should let me move in here
I’ll say
Take care of me, feed me
The future royalties of everything I write here
Will be yours.
You’ll laugh
And cover your mouth
Then the painter will show up
With his books
And ideas
And you’ll keep laughing
Telling me to come back later
And to leave the wine glass there.
I’ll go back home
To my own wine
To my words
The thoughts of finally bedding you
Buzzing about the room
Like the mosquitoes I cant kill.
Her Two Cents
The photo that was attached to this missed connections poem is a bit mysterious: when you look quickly, it appears to be a photo of a full, or nearly full, moon taken at some distance. But upon looking closer, you see the walls, windows, and ceiling of a room from where the photo was taken. Is this the mosquito-plagued space that our poet resides in or was it taken from the home on the hill that this poem describes? I will keep my eyes open for a follow-up piece called “Surrender” for certain.
