ISSUE  1   2   3   4   SUBMIT

Mark My Words


Lori Lubeski

If I’m found out

 

         to be illiterate

an idiot

 

         greedy thieving teen

 

from dumpsters

 

 

continually desiring

 

         friction

 

like the boy I was

 

 

if they notice

        

         my squalor,

 

         my pallor

 

deviant being

 

politely embarrassed

 

 

 

I’ll call to you

 

         from my fright

 

        

         I’ll tell you with dignified charm

 

my subtest scores

 

         significant discrepancy

 

my point spread

 

 

                  my majority

 

 

I’ll qualify

 

my darkened

 

brain

 

                  while escaping

 

         deafening calls

 

from beyond                      what I was

 

 

 

 

you’ll recognize where I’ve been

 

         you’ll deem me

 

         heroic

 

I’ll throw a flower to you

 

from my float in the parade

 

 

         I’ll toss your child

 

                  coins

 

 

 

I’ll wait for you after

 

                  for our momentary

 

 

         escape

 

from merciless

 

                           internal critics

 

in our polite dialog

 

we’ll exchange glances

 

of equivalencies

 

 

 

         the subterfuged morning afterhour

 

         of identity

 

 

spark of recognition

 

 

in your brightening eyes