Three Pieces
Parker Tettleton
Boiling Bark
I think of you as a sentence I want to hold back a little longer before I think of you, of me, of us, of this sentence, as an imperfect damned happy & sad little group of things in the midst of whatever else there is to this world. I want to go running in this sentence, in my mind, on this internet paper, toward a home I’ve never been in & a home I’ve never dreamt of. You’re just now waking up, & it’s very, very far away, & we’ve been married for less than a year. I was alive thirty years before I met you & the rest of this sentence is perfect.
You’re Going To Buy Me This Record
I’m a shotgun without a shot—I’m the love of no one’s life before their life begins again. I’m an accident within an accident with a piece of plywood dancing above. You’re the only love I won’t lie to—I mean, fuck, my only love. My parents are somewhere dying in the background along with yours. I’d make you something to eat, but you’d rather watch my lips & laugh & laugh.
The Gentleman In The Blue Cardigan, Please
I’m married, sitting in a car, with two beers, listening to a record. I’m married to my best friend, sitting in a Honda Accord, with two PBRs, listening to I’m Bad Now by Nap Eyes. I’m talking to my mother, or I was, during a storm. The storm wasn’t so bad but goddamn it feels like it’s worse in Oxford, Mississippi. She says you may have to go to bed early. I know I know nothing about the gentleman in blue. There are people & then there are the ones you want to hold if you could hold anything for more than a breath. I know I know everything about loving the hell out of you.
Parker Tettleton is a vegan Leo living in Portland, Oregon. He is the author of This Is A City (Ravenna Press, forthcoming), Please Quiet (Ravenna Press, 2018), Ours Mine Yours (Pitymilk Press, 2014), Greens (Thunderclap Press, 2012) and Same Opposite (Thunderclap Press, 2010). Parker Tettleton is online at parker-augustlight.blogspot.com.
