Parker Tettleton ~ Five Poems

RINF

I’m open­ing anoth­er before I’m fin­ish­ing, with no reli­able inter­net, with a paper­clip to up & down the zip­per on my green coat, with you except you’re not you & you’re wher­ev­er you are, in an apart­ment full of me & my qui­ets, in a city full of the kind of air that will leave you behind. I wake up full of win­dows & flowers—I did not dream of the thing we talked about when we talked last. I dreamt of an arrow, which was in the shape of a tree, & it went straight through the sun.

~

It Will Shock You How Much It Never Happened

The first sen­tence is a play on Saturday with Harmony. Tonight, there is a scene with Peggy in her hos­pi­tal bed where she lies & wins my heart. I like think­ing about scenes & hos­pi­tals & beds & lies & hearts. I believe you believe in change because you want to. I’m think­ing of us hun­gover on the side­walk in front of a parade—it reminds me to remem­ber silence is the kind­est, sad­dest, most-lived truth.

~

Is It Milwaukee?

The first sen­tence is a dream in a restau­rant with an old friend, a stranger, my par­ents, & pink light­ing. There are two tables & three menus: veg­eta­bles, meats, drinks. I sit inside a clos­et with the door shut for a sec­ond before I open it & ask the lady (dressed in black, with sun­glass­es on, sit­ting by her­self) to swap places so my moth­er & father would have room to sit (the clos­et is tinier than the din­ing room, which now includes an extra table). The chef is the own­er & he bangs into me com­ing through the kitchen door. He has great hair & makes me laugh & my par­ents ner­vous even though I’m straight. Matt, the chef, & I are play­ing music. I’m the one just danc­ing la la la. Matt explains he is tran­si­tion­ing. The chef is in the win­dow with a gui­tar then writhing on the floor then I’ve upset Matt. I wake up just after Matt kicks in the door behind the door in the flu­o­res­cent restaurant.

~

Beymer

There are spots everywhere—spots on my hands, spots on Paul Newman, spots on spots on spots. I wake up at an uncer­tain time every day: I wake up, believ­ing in myself, & get the fuck on with it. There are chil­dren every­where. I hate it. I don’t eat ani­mals but I do not love them either. There are spots every­where. Who is a man? Who isn’t? I keep wash­ing. I have always liked the name Margot. Can you drink in the hos­pi­tal of your mind? I bought you flow­ers before I knew you. I buy me some­thing else.

~

Turtle

I want to ask you things on the fifth floor. I mean some­thing. I believe in umbrel­las & walk­ing & glass­es. I believe the job of your life is to know your­self. I remem­ber: you walked up to me & I walked up to you. We said hel­lo almost at the same time. I took a job. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took anoth­er. I took another.

~

Parker Tettleton is a veg­an Leo liv­ing in Portland, Oregon. He is the author of Ours Mine Yours (Pitymilk Press 2014), Greens (Thunderclap Press 2012), & Same Opposite (Thunderclap Press 2010). More infor­ma­tion can be found here.