My Poem at the Pool
Jessica Wiseman Lawrence


My poem doggy-paddled its way over to the side of the pool,
put its hands flat on the concrete, and pushed up with its
arms and elbows, scraping its belly on the way up.
It clumsily flopped alongside the pool, rolled over, and stood
up, its dark chest hair dripping. My poem wore sky-blue trunks.
 
It came up to where I lay on my white plastic lounge chair and
asked me if I was alone. I told it that yes, I was alone, and single,
and was my poem interested? I had no time for games. My poem
didn’t like how forward I was being, shuffled its feet with
their waterlogged, white peeling skin, and asked me if the empty
 
chair next to me was taken. When I said no, my poem dragged
the heavy thing over to the other side of the pool, and sat
next to a beautiful,  young woman who was reading in the sun. 
My poem kissed her right on her red mouth, just like a traitor.
I don’t know what I ever saw in it. It was never the poem for me.

About the Author:
Jessica Wiseman Lawrence grew up on a working Virginia farm and studied creative writing at Longwood University. You can find her recent work upcoming or published in Stoneboat, Cease Cows, Origins, and The Feminine Divine's Anthology of Female Voices, along with many others. Her poetry has earned two Best of the Net nominations in 2015.

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