A Geography

Taunton

 

Was and is still

My barnacled and crusty sea;

A shore of salty boulders white washed

With the sun and humidity so dense

You could drown standing naked at low tide.

 

Utah

 

Immaculate, vermiculite

My jaw around a mountain.

Sarcastic toupees of Kentucky Blue Grass patch the bald earth like

Thin, creamy, left hands well manicured and rung with diamonds

Feet and hands and birth dates etched in concrete

Inviolable concrete,

Which,

despite my atheist fixation on the inevitable buckling of sidewalks,

never

ever

cracks

or gives way to the soil it suffocates.

Which is exactly why he left and left us crooked.

Move on. 

 

Montana

 

Remembers your name and egg preference

Keeps the yoke high and round and runny

And the toast a little over-done.

Boys run shrieking, giggling in their underwear

tagging, Victory!

then tripping on the cat

 

California

 

Oh! Ongoing golden process

Of expansive existential connections!

Ceaseless home among the waxy citrus leaves and bulbous, happy fruit

Shallow home,

sweet home,

you are only home because you have nursed me through some sickness

countless, countless times.

How badly I’d wanted it to be a love song!

© Jennifer Chaussee

 

*It is your responsibility to understand copyright law.