Flush Left | A.J. Forrester | 02 05 23

Adage

It has been 
said, we know as we grow
old as a day mundane looks to be
a life laid down in decades
I say where is the equal sign
the grand total
of what I have done
what is left to consider

consider this: nothing
and that’s fine
I thought nights of pain would never see the ease
the cutting cry of a baby unable to stand it any longer
the rocking back and forth
the praying hours
spent trading my time for his or hers
the awful wonder that time brings

standing beneath these leaflets of shame and guilt 

for what

and yet

I wish for more
time to ache with you in my arms
more prayers to send on your behalf
love for the days I had anger in my words
I wish for more to give you
more to leave

when I leave, let this be known

♨

Held Captive

I write this sober.
I love him: know that.
Know this: I don’t know
what to do.
I bought gray sheets
to match his mood and hide
his neglect – white
towels to encourage that daily baptism
by hot water and a blue scrunchie.
I keep Clorox on hand,
soak in it some days – like today.
One of us is of sound mind
and body – One of us
is desperate to find
out what normal is – One
of us is a shell of himself,
the other: a shell.

♨

Quality Control

Yesterday I went to Publix on 301,
the new one in need of new entry tiles:
the girl bagged my groceries perfectly:
chicken with the shrimp,
romaine with the bananas still green
like I like them, the hotdogs 
with the genoa salami—the kind he likes.

This morning
two hotdog buns were missing.
He must have eaten after ten. He does that, you know.
Must feel like he must eat 
when I am asleep, prevents me from seeing
he is human, that he delights
in formed angus beef
not knowing I bought them
for him. Not knowing I live

to see him delight in hotdogs, to see him
normal.
Stupid word: normal.
Stupid until you beg for it—whatever it is
I just know
it’s not here.

 

—Submitted on 01/20/2023

A.J. Forrester is the author of Resurrection (Word Poetry, 2021). Her poems have appeared in SWWIM, Trailer Park Quarterly, and Azahares, among other journals. She lives in Dade City, where she teaches poetry and volunteers for the Florida Literary Arts Coalition.

Editor’s Note: The series title Flush Left refers to the fact that, due to our limited WordPress skills, we are only considering poems that are flush left. Poems already in our Submittable queue that have simple non-flush-left formatting may be considered for publication. Click here to submit work to Flush Left

 

Get our newest title

Pre-order the book right here on indolentbooks.com.