I Feel Like A Poem Today...

Wrote the name of the pill on my hand.

Wrote one because that was all I took. I spent a long time making the bed.

It wasn’t because you weren’t home, so much as it wasn’t home

without you there. I didn’t want to make any mistakes.

Took the trash out early, and washed the bottles in the sink.

I wasn’t sad. I was occupied.

The cat was in heat and every advisement involved a bic pen.

The television broke, the toaster inflamed.

Around three there was nothing in the air but air, and I wasn’t asleep.

Wrote the name of the pill, wrote my name, wrote yours. Wrote a couple things I’d been

meaning to do.

Wrote married and wondered.

Even in good dreams, I take a piss in the wrong place.

I wake up with sweat between my legs, my hands numb,

and thinking you’re down there at the end of the bed setting up nets

and all kinds of measures.

-Danielle Pafunda

*The first time I came across a poem by Danielle Pafunda it was from a friend sophomore year in college. She read this one to me and has resonated with me ever since. Later that year, my friend and I went to one of Danielle's readings and it changed the way I read poetry.

I felt the need to share this one tonight. It is from her collection called Pretty Young Thing