You pitter on your bike across the boulevard, past the litter, the small dog jackets,
and tour bus flyers. You bought your bike for LA cheap, it brakes properly and night signals
but its not doing too hot. Too hot out in Venice, you pull up to the driveway, quiet, as you try
to choke down filmy, office coffee and grunt work. The roommates are out, they have money
and no sensitivity to smog.
It’s just unquenched loneliness. You turn over tables, shoot the strangers dead, the vinyl flips
to B-side Sufjan, the “Not—As—Good Sufjan.” Not as good as our Cape house music lessons.
Chords: minor, happy. Major, disappointment. You don’t think about me. Me, with my hands up
my elbows cracking eggshells now that I’m across a country or maybe a pacific distance
in my kitchen in our kitchen. It’s too ordinary to feel bad about. I’m sure you’re watching
the same Criterion films, drinking the same one-buck-chucks; you always hated
the earthy aftertaste of beer. Sullen—you, me, mulling—you. You always looked better going
than coming. Now you lock up the bike, leave outside go inside.
Lindsay Donovan is a New England poet who graduated from Emerson College in 2015 with a Bachelor of Arts in Writing, Literature, and Publishing with a minor in Political Communication. She has been published by Knight’s Library Magazine, Touchstone Literary Magazine, and Wild Roof Journal. She currently works at Milton Academy as part of the Upper School Performing Arts Department where she teaches public speaking, drama, and poetry. Lindsay lives in Somerville, Massachusetts, with her partner and three cats, Bowie, Helena, and Tusk.
Image: reddit.com
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Heavy Feather Review 