About You, Reflects Me

About You, Reflects Me



To walk to a mirror,

stand in front of it, 

and climb in

is to 

write about you

and the only thing 

more ridiculous

than thinking that poetry 

would get me anywhere

is the realization that you 

have read every single one.

Appreciation,

recognition,

or determination 

couldn’t describe

what it’s like

to encounter someone

who has had your back 

when the lights go black;

“What do you do?”

“I do this thing

with my days,” I say.

“Where I get up 

before the sun

and sit back down to dream,

it’s knocking down doors

on this keyboard,

but before the coffee gets cold

I take a break

and go to work,

allow my mind to reset

like a computer update,

and when I get back home

the oven timer dings,

fresh and ready

for me to have another taste.”

“Busy then?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” you say.

“It doesn’t seem

like you have time

for anything else to fit in.”

It’s been a while 

since I’ve been to a tailor 

to measure how much space 

my life takes up,

thoughts spill out over my pants

causing me

to no longer be able to see

where it is my pee

comes from

or the shirt 

that no longer buttons 

up at the neck 

because my breathing 

has become restricted

by a stack of books in my apartment

that have multiplied 

like a mouse 

in heat.

Is it a contradiction to think

that as we get older

most of what matters shrinks,

or does 

love 

actually 

mean

more than a British movie?

The definition being buried

deep inside of me

and if that is true

then it’s gotta be

inside of you, too. 

The Book of Matthew,

“Who of you 

by worrying 

can add a single hour to his life?”

Today is next year,

tomorrow is yesterday,

and it’s in letting go

that it all becomes clear;

but, I don’t want it to become like street sweeping day,

I go out with the broom truck

to do my work

and you 

follow behind me in time 

to ticket those in the way,

because Honey,

I’m more like John Wayne

in that I need

the ability to be free;

and I don’t know if that

will ever change.

Dan Parks