clementine OR divorce poems vi
i.
dull machine thunks
i make errors
to keep my mind off of you
ii.
wash the dust
from the factory
off of my hands,
my face
alone in the employee bathroom
looking
feeling
like a gaunt
hard-working ghost
iii.
no one determines their own futures
but i could have tried harder
iv.
working nights means
spending days
in bed
i wash my sheets
and don’t put them back
for days
i sleep in my most
unmade state
for fear of the familiar
smell
of you
v.
our love is like
a traditional song
i forgot about till the sunrise
there are minor differences:
your father was no miner
you did not drown
while herding ducks
to water
(although, if i were a duck
maybe the story would have been different)
you have no sister
nor would i have kissed her
to forget you
i guess what remains
is a woman
leaving a man;
she haunts him nightly,
bedsheets or no
vi.
when i leave the bleak place
for our,
no, my
bleaker apartment,
the sky:
clouds
striated with lavender
the colour of clementines
oh my darling
clementine
