Cheryl J. Fish
You would make my day if a day could be made by a maker.
A hard head and a short word if we do not meet it’s in my mind
When you hear a saxophone does your temperature rise
Or maybe it’s only my misunderstanding?
The skyward light almost dusk in summer someone’s humming
a painting, driving a poem. Which do you favor when
you fall away to that almost sleep, to that not quite out of the woods
hyper-awareness of ones that matter, from the present and past.
You would make my day if a day could be made, not by prescription, not
punctuation, by an unflappable stand, wise contestation,
a gracious wane.
If I seem like a grapefruit
tart, strong sectioned off
skin enclosing a ripe center
refreshing yet acidic
pick me up
roll me in your hand.
Then you might be a tomato
Firm yet soft
Ripe or lacking flavor
An accompaniment or the star
In summer your varieties and heirlooms
dazzle the masses. You cost!
On our tree or vine
We’re plucked by a migrant worker
and sent to
If we’re blessed
displayed at the farmer’s market
basking naked with similar orbs
Let us get acquainted on the counter
in floral pattern bowl
cominging disparate juices
suculent sweet meats.
Joe’s Pizza Hearbreak Slice
Joe’s pizza slice a ruckus
of eat me now
drenched in liquid cheese
knees pressed against other knees
how you came to me
sliced off the rest
love a messy inconvenience
Fussy pie-shaped lie
Pizza gooey good
eat it alone standing with strangers
thought bubbles clog
the present tense
grease, moist eyes, heat
Have to have another.
Is pregnancy queer?
Does it have anything to do with an overheard phone
Conversation the pregnant girl’s walking talk
Kurt Vile’s guitar playingstyle pleased
the bartender so much she shifted steam.
Capo, open tuning hammer on the neck
A patron asked her to put salt on the winter ice
outside the Spotty Dog bar where cigarette smokers
linger. Is privilege an accusation or a happening stance?
He played banjo
then guitar with reverb.
I was pregnant while old nothing shaped like the
Belly-button-bulging girl’s walking talk
Touched by your lack of aversion to “they”
A person’s personal pronoun is a choice
A playingstyle so magnanimous. Free We.