Welcome to April, in which two poets test themselves against time, meter, rhyme, and the days that demand poems. That's right, it's National Poetry Month which means that HighTouch and I will be writing a poem a day, and you know what that means! Lower those expectations. Let's go!
Perhaps there is a spaceship where astronauts
grow tomato plants in zero gravity. Perhaps there is a zip code
where anyone can live, their mail circulating in some imagined zone
Perhaps instead of a tax refund, I am buying you an air conditioner
or a refrigerator or those teal shoes that you love.
I am leaving them on your front porch, surreptitiously,
for you to find.
Perhaps I am pouring water on you to wake you from your sleep,
only it's a pitcher full of shredded newspaper,
confetti of the displaced, the forlorn,
the slightly out of date.
Perhaps I am beckoning you near with only a whisper,
trying to dump water, soapy and warm,
down the front of your blouse, rendering you rain-
soaked, stained and foolish.
Or maybe I am a lie, a single red tulip,
planted years ago in a patch of dirt beside the house
that bursts forth unexpectedly every year this day.