Read More: A brief Q&A with Kevin Pilkington
Converting
On top of the tree across
the street branches are shaped
like a crucifix. I walked by
it so many times on my way
to the subway, I finally converted
every spiritual belief I had into
leaves. In no time my faith became
bark, my soul wood. Soon I
substituted angels for birds.
To be clear, rush hour is still
hell; at best horns and sirens
are broken hosannas. Although
its winter, I promise you this –
in May the leaves will come
again. Jesus said he would come
again too although he hasn’t yet, has he.
The Last Time
I feel better skipping one meal
a day. Since noon is never on time
I quit eating lunch. Later in the day
I might snack on the hole in the middle
of a bagel to keep my weight down.
If temperatures drop I get out of the way
to avoid getting hit then put on a heavier
coat. When night falls I can’t turn my
back on it anymore and try to help it
get back up by dawn. I even got down
on my knee once to propose – now
it’s just to tie my shoe. The last time
I did, I saw my name written on
the sidewalk. Until the rain washes
it away it might explain why
I feel like I let everyone walk all
over me. At least I’ve become more
realistic ever since I found a way
to let go of those plans I held on to for years.
I rolled them into a cigar, lit it and began
puffing. It was much easier that way
watching them all go up in smoke.
Faded Jeans
When some memories
begin to fade I wait for them
to almost rip then wear
them like jeans with a blue
jacket so they stay with me
a little longer. After my uncle
had a stroke he wasn’t able
to speak. I just made sure
to memorize everything he couldn’t
say. A few years later I was
with the first woman I thought
I loved until I realized I didn’t. […]
Subscribers can read the full version by logging in. |
Global Warming
The city had never been so hot.
July and August broke records –
even vinyl records weren’t safe.
Short blocks became miles long
and soaked in sweat. Humidity
was high enough to reach planes
and turn them into insects.
The air conditioning in my building
wasn’t strong so to help cool off
I ate cereal in the morning that
sounded like leaves rustling in
October when I added milk.
The novel I stopped reading half
way through because it left me
cold, I started to read again
hoping the conclusion would
leave me even colder. […]
Subscribers can read the full version by logging in. |
___________________________________
Kevin Pilkington is on the writing faculty at Sarah Lawrence College. He is the author of ten poetry collections and two novels. His latest collection, Playing Poker With Tennessee Williams was published by Black Lawrence Press in 2021 and his second novel, Taking On Secrets was published by Blue Jade Press in 2022.
Read More: A brief Q&A with Kevin Pilkington