A Geographical Poem a la Nolo

I’ve been asked to post a poem. Son says we’ll talk tomorrow. I remember reading this on a subway. A woman wearing three ponytails applauded with a knife and spoon. A man behind a newspaper remained silent. Two kids pretended they were Jedi Knights with pencils. One of them gave me his and said may the force be with this poem. It was published in Esophagus one month later. The rest is geography, as they say.

Sonnet Fifteen

It’s nine o’clock and I’m washing
clothes again. By midnight
the sky will be bleached of sun
and stars will stain my dreams
with people I used to know.
By two AM I’ll deduce
a narrative is being born.
By three I’ll finally escape.
Instead of asparagus I’ll ask
for broccoli or maybe satin
sheets. I remember Abraham.
It tickles when you toggle me.
I wonder if there’s silence
under seas or does salt cleanse
the machinery of all peppermint.

~Nolo Lingua 2005