Peter Leight ~ Three Poems

Entrance

When it’s time to enter
I’m stand­ing in line
stand­ing and wait­ing in line
I don’t even know if I’m enter­ing
or wait­ing to enter
is it eas­i­er to enter
when you don’t even know
if you are?
Sometimes I think it’s bet­ter to back up
or look around the back
as if it’s a his­tor­i­cal entrance
that’s behind me
Of course there are things that need to hap­pen
before any­thing else can hap­pen
When I ask the per­son in charge to let me in
he isn’t even let­ting
he doesn’t notice me
it’s true notice is con­struc­tive
even when it’s not actu­al
Maybe he’s wait­ing to be paid
or there’s a pay­ment that needs to be made
there are things that only hap­pen
after some­thing else has hap­pened
I don’t even know if the per­son
in charge of enter­ing
is the per­son in charge of pay­ments
If you fol­low the mon­ey
fol­low­ing the mon­ey trail
you end up right in front
of the entrance
as in a per­son­al entrance
nobody else can enter
If it costs too much
hon­est­ly there are prices
we can’t even pay
even when there’s no oth­er way
to enter I don’t think the per­son in charge
of enter­ing is the per­son in charge
of oth­er ways in

~

Down

I’m keep­ing my head down
Under the lev­el
Of the light
Like a kind of mar­i­na­tion
Downloading Gustav Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony
You shall rise again my dust
I think I’ll turn down
The vol­ume and make some friends down
Here who don’t think I’m fucked up
Not even sit­ting down
Or brush­ing the dust
Off my scalp
Is it bet­ter to have some­thing you can’t put down
Or to put it down?
I often think I’m under-com­pen­sat­ing
When I drop under the lev­el
Of the light
Like a smooth land­ing
When you don’t feel the down
Draft or the touch­down
For instance
Personally I’d like to have some friends down
Here who actu­al­ly call back
Why can’t we be insep­a­ra­ble?
As long as I’m wait­ing down
Here togeth­er with the dust
On the bot­tom
I’m keep­ing my head down
Not even leav­ing
Evacuation is hard­ly ever the answer

~

As Long As My Life Is Empty

I’m not even pro­ject­ing
As in a dri­ve in
Not look­ing for any­thing
To put away
When I need to clean up
I’m wip­ing my hands on each oth­er
Not keep­ing any­thing
In my head
Even if it’s not some­thing I care about
Like a kind of appre­ci­a­tion that isn’t attach­ing to any­thing
If you think about the empti­ness
In your own life
What are you actu­al­ly think­ing about?
I’m not talk­ing about cut­ting any­thing
Or cut­ting myself off
That’s not what I mean
If I’m hold­ing on to my head
It’s only because I don’t want to drop any­thing
That belongs to me
Doesn’t it?
Sometimes I think there’s absence in the empti­ness
As if the empti­ness
Is some­where else
Where every­thing else is
Can we please talk about some­thing else?
Not keep­ing any­thing
In my head
Like white let­ter­ing
On a white back­ground
I mean there’s noth­ing to wor­ry about
Even if there’s noth­ing I don’t care about

~

Peter Leight has pre­vi­ous­ly pub­lished poems in Paris Review, AGNI, Beloit Poetry Review, Raritan, Matter, and oth­er magazines.