dear martin

currently i'm working on a series of poems i'm calling "My Martin Poems." every poem features a fictional character named martin. he takes the role a fictional ex lover. he is a confidant. he is the person in our lives we can say anything to. the poems are simple in their creations. i've avoided verbose language, cryptic symbols, and generally all poetic devices i spent years in college learning. they are bare they are stark. and i love them for this reason. at this point i have...well...a lot of them. here below are a few of my favorites.

1

dear martin

you’ll be glad to know things are really looking up

I bought a snow shovel today

and some canned spray

to denounce rusting

I really hate fading beauty

you should see it now though

how the metal shines

I stood it up next to my mirror

handle on the floor

it’s nice to reflect myself

from a different perspective

the people I live with

(oh how I try no to mention them)

ask if I’m ever going to clear the driveway

martin, you understand how foolish that would be

my shovel is so new

and these roads stretch so far

2

it’s on the roof

I am certain of that

just climb, climb, climb

I know it burns dear martin

all those flights to the top

but you’ll find it

I promise

you still trust me, right?

I know it’s hard, the way I left

I’d be mad to

you were waiting so wonderfully

hands crossed in the shade of the oak

you couldn’t help but smile

I never told you I was there

I saw you

thank you for the flowers

I hope you did not throw them out

but you can still trust me

I only lied that once

so please, my love, my martin

it’s waiting on the roof

all you have to do

is take the pain

and climb

3

things are looking grim

I searched the wreckage

even wore rubbers and a head lamp

still I could find nothing

not a drop of blood

not a button from your blouse

absolute destruction

you’d figure the sea would qualm the fires

and cotton burns so quickly

as the tides rushed over

and the bow sunk deeper

everything was on that boat martin

memory alone can’t keep you alive

I guess it’s my fault

I’m the one who left

but still, I loved our walks

anyway, after diving the wreck

I didn’t have money to pay the guide

so I scrubbed tanks

it was a hot day

you always mocked my sweat

4

this time I am realizing

how far from home I am

I wanted to wake up

to the sound of frying eggs

it should be you cooking them

instead I wake up to nothing

even my heater is silent

it’s hardly a feat of technology

remember the way you hummed in your sleep

of course you don’t

but you remember I told you

martin, can you see yet

those crimes were never crimes

and a sad Tuesday is much better

than a lonely Wednesday