Sorry to Hear That

My goldfish died.
I am allowed to mention it
twice. "How sad," they say
and after that
forget it

           goldfish, father, only love
           or last best hope, oneself

"What shall I do
about a new goldfish?"
I get to say
repeatedly
and they suggest
their helpful notions,
goldfish ploys
till they are out of
good advice, then

           silence.

 

What You Said


please answer the question
I asked not the one you expected the one
you wanted to answer the one you thought
I really must mean try thinking that maybe
I meant what I said and wanted to know
what I asked

don't infer, don't imply, don't guess,
don't project, don't leap to conclusions,
don't ask if you don't want to know

And please ask the question to
which you would like an answer.
And, if you don't want the answer,
don't ask the question.

what you meant is of interest
but what you said also
and if pass the salt
means please pass the salt
or you are the star I steer by
or I shall take this nastily
honed straight razor
to my throat
or yours
I think
it matters

               and that you
hang from it hang from the letter,
the law, the contract, the slip, the slur
though some of your best friends
may be Man overboard! assumes
a man

               I didn't mean anything
by it
you may not know
but you meant something by it
and want it both ways king's X king's
X I take it back


one always means something
or several things I love you
so much it scares me to say it

unsafe in denial, in silence
in spite of the words
straight razor or no, you may
also want salt.

 

 

Have You Heard?


                      1
The best of myself in the suitcase
you carried to London and dropped
in a corner to unpack later perhaps
months later back in your flat
if you miss those exact pajamas.

I think he'll read the letter, she said,
but not the manuscript.

Or left in the waste bin of your hotel
in Mar del Plata, Argentina,
where I sent myself by courier,
kindness of bearer, knowing you
would be there briefly, out in the
open. Perhaps. And it says
here.

He must be buried, he said, in
scripts like that.

                      2
          blood flooding the language center of
          the brain and where a word was only a
                         a          and sense there
          should be a          and once was

Why don't you write another, she said,
to take your mind off?


You said nothing

          no word for migraine no
          words to ask for the word

          after the aura flickers
          the blood floods language
          gone as if it never was

                      3
If he doesn't answer, he said,
just send it to someone else.


this made-to-measure suit to
anyone else if you don't want it
it never was it never was
bespoke

Frank, baby, we know you drew it
for the ravine in Montana but
we're going to go with the blasted heath—
Yorkshire—it'll be great, kid, great.

 

Susan Rawlins

 

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Facets  A Literary Magazine (Volume VI, Issue 1)
February 2006