Untitled #27
good moon tonight. the lake is
alive, and the pale light bends
beneath the waves. you swim
like the sea-girls—mysterious.
the tide taps at my toes and I
moonbathe. you quicksilver to
the shore: the waters are cold,
love, you say. be warm for me.
Untitled #41
On a cool red line afternoon
the old man tells me (really
he tells no one in particular):
“you hope that by the time
you get married you really
know a gal—hell! Turns out
by the time you divorce her
you know her a lot better—”
But the rattle of railway cars
cuts the conversation short.
Later, some backyard evening,
I let the question linger over
lemonades and Grandmama
snarls. “Like hell,” she tells
the girls. “Howard kept me
loyal for too many years ‘till
he took off with that tramp,
and I never knew him at all.”
The ladies hum in agreement
and pass the pitcher ‘round.
Maybe there are no reasons.
Things come to pass and pass
away and that’s all and that’s
enough.
Miles White is a Midwestern poet and performer based in Chicago. He has a degree in Byzantine History from the University of Chicago, where he inaugurated the Reviews Department of Euphony Journal. White’s “Untitled (May 6—Dearborn)” placed third in Euphony’s 2019 Short Story Contest.
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