Poems
by John Swofford

 

As an item

 

Channeling the immediate past

i heard you coming   “I came in last,”

dazzled by all the information

in a grocery store.

 

Stepping to the beat, over

the loudspeaker, sometimes

turning with the melody,

 

watch out, dear friend

you don’t belong here

tell me something inviting

 

like free healthcare is coming,

and i’ll be necessarily clear:

i want a king, a dictator,

 

someone to choose for me,

i shall act, imminently

to preserve your eminence

dear woman of the future,

 

well into your prime

having blossomed at a tender

age, and yet, withstanding,

we, as an item,

are just in time

 

 

 

 

 

Many things

 

don’t force me to be what

i’m not - a man of the hour

with one final shot

 

shoot brazenly over the moon

satellites a-coming

don’t leave me alone

 

“I’ll be there for you thick and thin,”

and the world (a stage)

shall deep-fake a sin

 

to keep me hidden

from those that should know

you must accept me

 

don’t i look forward, then?

i’ve every oat to sow

since, as it happens,

well, into my thirties

 

I saw no action -

just the thought that, now

(i mean in the future)

many things, for me, will grow

 

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