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Poem

On Wednesdays I get angry,
and on Thursdays I make pots,
and then I am no longer angry.

When I’m angry I blast Buddy Holly—
but I keep the windows up.
And then I think it’s so funny, you know,
that I’m listening to Weezer,
and I’m reminded of how much I miss Joseph,
and then I am no longer angry.

Chloe drapes heating pads over me
and Lauryn goes to the store for cake
when I say I have a sweet tooth
but my back is aching bad.

I tell Jenna I feel crazy
and she says,
Do you want me to tell you
about a time I did something so crazy?

I stand at the window and I eat mint Milanos
and I watch a couple kiss goodbye.
They are my age and I wish I wanted to roll my eyes
but I see him tip her chin up with his finger
and I exhale.

My parking’s getting worse but
I’m getting better at not feeling 
like I need to drive everyone home all the time.

Muddie keeps spare contacts on my sink and goes home in my jeans,
and my eyelids flutter shut when they hum in the mornings.

I’ve been thinking about the man in the hat
at the Vietnamese restaurant.
He was sitting alone and his smile was so warm 
and I’ve been thinking about how often
I discount men in hats.

If I step outside I can hear the kids at recess, and the sun smells so good,
and we always find enough chairs for all the friends at the dinner table.
I really don’t listen to Weezer all that much.

Gina brings muffins from work and burns them twice in my oven.
The people at the film shop know my name.
My cousin cries when I take her to the airport.

I think my heart could burst open at the nothing of it all.

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