Margaret Christakos: Two Poems
VISA
To detail multitudes we
the distance between brow and
lip To detail multitudes we
zoom To detail multitudes you
count arrange by height I
weigh To detail multitudes we
think in colour shade pallor
age To detail multitudes I
squint I size up You
recall who was standing where
and in what footwear I
think in the key of
squeals and groans.
I call in my version
of events I try to
be specific and unflinching I
report You offer as much
information as you possibly can
for the good of all
concerned To secure a positive
outcome we think it through
in private and then visit
their website You swallow your
pride and fess up You
feel you should You want
to live with yourself after
all To sort out whose
hands held the weapon you
try pantomime in your backyard.
I push you into the fence and you cry uncle.
I throw the glove at
your knee You lose You
need to get down to
the station in haste Go
now so details stay crisp
persist in sequence Leap Let
your conscience breathe sleep get
some shut-eye First thing in
the morning get dressed Something
comfortable yet clean Skip coffee.
Show up at the front
desk Simply say I want
to help as much
I can begin to detail
multitudes We do the deed
to redeem Clarify my allegiance
You were mistaken it was
a really fun night Once
is enough suffice will
have to
THE FITFUL EVENTS
These come to me days and nights and go from
me again, / But they are not the Me myself. – WW
We drive for half hour come to barns with
cows a merry go round. En route we’d passed
a falls. Boats bobbed. We opted to
stop. You extracted basket from trunk unpacked
picnic. Ants gushed out small hill near
my sandal. I squished many torsos.
Little legs wafting eyelashes ephemeral
loss. Another roadtrip we sought RV lot. You
hoped to trade up. I came along for the french
fries. Inside polyurethane surfaces smelled, everything
glued shut. I suggested sleeping in there might induce
asthma. You looked over my baseball cap nostrils
twitching. For once I thought maybe we didn’t make such
a good match, me, your straw. About twenty thousand
fans made a noise mass riot in action. I
couldn’t see players’ faces yet felt
seats surge. That was some drum kit, triple
drum I think. You’d stuffed toilet paper into ear
cavities drank gin cooler waved at me
from time to time. Thumbs up. Thumbs way up.
Gravel path gradually lost grit soon we rode tar.
About two thirds distance across bridge
hatchback stalled. You started shrieking at guy next to
us, at me. You said I resembled my baby
picture. Were not in control of your slurs. I
threw up next tried to climb out of car okay
taxi happened by. So I solved
all that needed solving that
evening. You got left for once, ha! A pinkish
spring day about 2 p.m. deep nasturtium beds
flamed. Sky flickered blue. Kid waddled near with
balloon dog. Thing about balloon dogs they don’t
last. Two adults hovered tad angry. I figured
it was good thing I couldn’t get preggers. You
scrape water with paddle simply hack into
river pray wooden hull shoots forward
slingshot. In quiet bar waiter lights our
tea light offers free martinis glass dish
cashews. Several women strip writhe. You pass me
proxy I sign in extra-winding script
tug at my neck until tie relents. Thank god
I whisper. All these people fit their times
all these places held form. All these events
hoisted away from my body a keyboard
I’d again moisten from afar.
from Multitudes, Coach House Books 2013, used with permission from the press and the author.