Small Complications

by on November 29, 2011

Issue 1 Poetry
Sally Scopa

When he suggested a blow job
under that old tree by the water
in the public park, she laughed.

She knows almost nothing
about poetry, or death. She works
at the grocery store. She is, generally,

apathetic.She does not expect
romance, or death. And when
she dies it will not be easy

or painful. She will not linger
over the two-for-one cans of soup,
and if she reads a book of poetry

left behind in produce,
and if she meets the presence
of the poet there, she will not

understand. Poetry and death
are not for her. They are for
the poet to fling over the edges

of the cliff, little pebbles down
into the water. She is for the times

the poet is running low on
toilet paper, and oranges.