I live with my two cats, Abe Lincoln and George Washington, in Ann Arbor, Michigan. My latest chapbook is Men in Togas Looking at Fruit (Zetataurus, 2016). My website: https://tylerwettig.wordpress.com/.
Sonnet for the Unmarried
It’s Bach on the stereo: Brandenburg
Concerto, third movement: I prefer a
slower rendition, I remark. But to-
night, I like the urgency. Some botched
cookies on the dinner table. We scrape
the usable parts, nibble the crumbles.
She hands me a book of her poetry:
I sit, cross-legged on the couch, cat in
my lap, thumb through the worn pages. She writes,
someday, my prince will come, and the music
fades. We’re washing dishes; she’s greying a
bit. I excuse myself to the bathroom.
The hand-towel says believe, and I do,
having just lived the future, as I did.
Man on Fire II
I’m a late-blooming Buddhist in an abandoned
garden: possibility tenderly pruned but so festers
like an open wound. I dwell in probabilities—
every word, a calculation. Every moment, a nimbus:
drizzle as we make our way out of the bookstore.
My therapist tells me I need to face my ultimate
fear. My wife tells me I need to fix my taillight.
So let me be abandoned. Half-blind in the dark.
I pass a stranded motorist on the way home.
I want to pull over to help him, only for him
to bludgeon me.
Any catharsis to belie this coil, this samsara.
I’d rather have a season in hell.
©2018 Tyler Wettig
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to tell him or her. You might say what it is about the poem that moves you. Writing to the author is the beginning of community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -FF