My father was a doctor. We never got the doctoring bug. He never spoke to us about medicine. Instead, he took us on road trips and taught us to play catch, even me. When we were little, he would read ... [+]
I convince myself it’s a kind of grocery list
I will buy bread I will not
Forget gluten free for Uncle Paul
I will buy eggs will
Use the coupon at the bottom of my purse
I will
When my girlfriend asks me if I’ll write a New Year’s Resolution
I tell her I’ll write this poem instead
Tell her her voice pressed up against my cheek
Her voice more bean bag than human less skin and more frequency
See I am home but she’s not here
So I make another promise because it’s the closest I can get
To her lips from within this stone house
It’s not a grocery list
I dictated to my mother couldn’t
Bring myself to type the words
Only poetry belongs on these fingertips she kept
Smiling at me between sips of coffee I knew
Had long gone cold between I love yous
And I’m worried about yous
I will buy bread I want to say
I will buy eggs
Milk
Butter
I promise
I will