The Most Beautifullest Thing
I had a dream
that I read a poem
to a woman
and cried
at how beautiful
it was
and she cried
at how beautiful
that was
and I thought
how even my
thoughts are
a problem.
a white woman
said she would
never teach me
how to whistle
and I only
asked because
she knew how
to whistle
and maybe
I should just
say how beautiful
that was. when I was
at the bar
and Greg
was spinning
a woman
walked by me
and found
a spot
to dance,
not with
any body
or looking
at any one
and if right
now you’re
wondering
if knowing
who Greg is
is important
I will
just say no
but it helps,
and yes Greg
is important.
my ex’s glasses
I found
in my bathroom
that she
told me
to throw away
the ability
to pivot
sleep. after
we broke
up I told
my friend
Kyle
and if you’re
wondering
yes, you
need to
reference
what I said
about Greg.
yes, we
were drunk
yes, most
of it is a blur
but the
events aren’t
really important.
but. back
to my dream
what do
you think
that woman
looked like,
how about
the woman
at the club,
how about
if I tell you
that neither
of them looked
like the woman
who, like
a hunter,
watched
the hound
run off
to bring back
what was
shot out
of the sky,
and realizes
I don’t want
to come back.
what’s beautiful
about that
is a beagle
standing by
a lagoon,
so maybe
I’ll just
stand here
for a while,
the breeze
feels nice,
I can smell
the petrichor.
Notes:
This poem borrows its title from “The Most Beautifullest Thing in This World,” the title of a song and album by Keith Murray.
Source: Poetry (April 2021)