January 14, 2025Poem in Which I Press Fast Forward
my young mother becomes my dead mother
my new car becomes a clunker
my blond hair becomes gray,
my favorite sweater, a rag
my beloved becomes my enemy
my enemy, someone I can’t remember
my past becomes a murky place except for a few sharp excerpts
my memory, a torn plastic bag, groceries spilling onto the pavement
my love of apples becomes a metaphor
my love of apples becomes my love of applesauce
my flat chest becomes a set of breasts that later flop
my bright pink scar becomes a faded white line
my childhood friend becomes a stranger, then a corpse
my childhood home becomes someone else’s home
my baby fat becomes adult fat
my new sneakers, worn and ready for Goodwill
my obsessions become ash
my fire, a cold sandwich
my scribbles becomes more scribbles
my wedding dress, a punchline
my glass of wine becomes my rewind
my beer stein, a pencil cup
my garbage becomes landfill
your trees, my kitchen table
my biggest problems dissolve
then bubble up years later like Alka-Seltzer
my belly laugh becomes a bellyache
my aversion to conflict becomes a migraine
my frown becomes a ray of frown lines
my dance moves becomes a skeleton rolled into an anatomy classroom
my childhood love of the sea becomes my adult political quest
my pet peeves soften into petty concerns then become peace lilies
my fall from grace becomes my saving
my savings become my coffin’s down payment
from In Which