Crawl City
Logic
When you are obsessed
is no time for pleasantries
the television of all night
convenience shops
a monitor monitoring our every move
above the cash register
while rats race labyrinths
/ in the space between
your hairline and your fine plucked
brows
My friend said once & it’s true— when you go
to a country that’s been devastated,
the people
/ are laughing
heads back
mouths open—no teeth
This is the opposite
of obsession
this letting go
/ Remember the pepper-
mint/s in plastic wrap,
the metal toothpick
bin that plopped
a wooden stick down
when you turned the small
round knob / a little
girl at Denny’s?
Where are our parents
now long gone
no use for toothpicks
in this country /or another
when you get there
look around / &
check for laughter
. . . . to engage roses /becomes a geometry
—William Carlos Williams
the rose ends and geometry
begins
—other poems come through the blank paper but not this
to engage the breathless stagger
on the backstairs the evangelist’s assistant withholds information
who knew
the scent of yellow roses in the kitchen window overpowers the odor
/ of fish in the trash—
really—?
who has missed what / completely—
her fork trembles & she makes tentative stabs at the cauliflower
/ the notion of the theorem is deeply intertwined with the concept of proof
who knew the arithmetic of autumn
/ dry twigs & berries
could conjure mornings / immersion
an unexpected gathering of Hungarian numbers
a space to step into
Jeanne Morel is the author of the chapbook That Crossing Is Not Automatic. (Tarpaulin Sky). Recent poems have appeared in december magazine and Fourteen Hills. She lives in Seattle with her husband and their two cats and teaches poetry, composition, and Adult Basic Education. She has an MFA in Writing from Pacific University.
