SUBLIMINAL MESSAGES

 I.

     The package I ordered came

today, but it wasn’t the right size so

this poem is still about you.

     When this happens I find

myself searching for a reset button

to push. I’ll sooner

squeeze into something too

tight than let boredom set in,

which is why I’m writing

this poem about you, this

poem that’s about you, but

doesn’t have you in it (Even though

you would make a better poem—

that’s not what this is about

anymore). I must keep my distance

     held on a leash, sun-

bleached blue and frayed,

absent of solitary line;

multi-level, multi-time.

Stop hurting my pride,

scarecrow, I can feel those judging

eyes from two flat states away.

I’ll wear what I like, I like what

I wear, and that isn’t redundant.

Originally, I was intending to ask

your forgiveness when I began to write

this poem that’s about you (and

also for you, now, apparently, although

you’re still nowhere in it—look

around you. Are you here?) but

since then I’ve remembered stories

I’ve heard about you, too.

There is nothing to forgive.

II.

I’m sorry I’ve forgotten you, past life,

but really it’s remembering you that’s the problem.

Why do you only call me when

I’m stressed?

Maybe I’d pay you more attention if you weren’t always sticking your foot

out to trip me up; guilt complexes don’t come and go.

Forgive me; I’m much too responsible for this.

Synapse failure; try again.

III.

NO TIME FOR PLEASANTRIES STOP

LATELY IT’S BEEN TOO MUCH STOP

BUT NOT ENOUGH STOP     NOT ENOUGH STOP

WILL YOU CALL THE DENTIST STOP

PAY TUITION TOO STOP     I’M SORRY STOP

LATELY I’VE BEEN TOO MUCH STOP

BUT NOT ENOUGH STOP

NOT ENOUGH