Ramshackle Review

Sara Fitzpatrick Comito:
Three Poems



Listing

Goals for tonight:

            fly from rocky cliffs

            swim with otters

            simplify the tax code

            engage in a trite oneuppance

            with a drunk cummings

sleep it off

            and dream

To do:

            plumb the more modern lines

            do something Zen

            use Zen as an adverb

            catch my neighbor's eye

            as he does laundry

            hang mine in surrender

           

hear it flap in the breeze. It's so nice

to be under something else's power

and let it be like sailing,

which I've never done

            and dream

does it rock so –

            or so?

Sew a blanket with sleeves

make a million bucks

shear a sheep – shear anything!

And sell the wool for a trout.

Make breakfast.

Done.

Fenced

Spent virgin candles
stuffed in the Corona box
the truck didn't take away

and with jars of honey
in my bathroom,
what would people make

of my relics
even less well-placed?

The neighbors,
they mean well,
and I've learned to say
turn the fucking music down

in Spanish

and there's some respect
that comes with that

but if they only knew
what happens in these rooms.




The Skill in Gravity

Vantage is a type of wood,
a sound knock of understanding,
that reverberation across
a snowy vista,
children sledding until
they meet with something solid

the ones that have seen
the other seasons,
let them set up the track

unless they've got
a score to settle.

Let the plow pile
up the snow
for a bank like a pool game
and there's the skill in gravity

that grating, the grind
under a plastic sled
until you meet the other side

the unwind
and sleep later.
Ah, winter.




Sara Fitzpatrick Comito edits the online journal Orion headless. Her poetry has appeared in places such as The Smoking Poet, Leveler and Barrier Islands Review. She's married to a carpenter and stone mason who, for simplicity's sake, are the same person.