jrlewis's blog

The first time

My mom told me I was fat

Was freshman year of high school.

She clarified,

I weighed as much as my six-foot-tall father.

She stocked the house with diet cola.

She said, “ten pounds would be easy to lose.” 

Which wasn’t right…

My father was wasting away, a neurodegenerative disease.

My mother baked chocolate chip cookies twice a week

For my father.  After school, I stopped at the supermarket.

Then she said to me, “twenty pounds are doable with a teenage metabolism.”

The doctor prescribed my father chocolate ice cream at every hospital meal.

When I was a senior,

My arm measured the same circumference

As my father’s thighs.  I hate that fat and bulky muscle on my arms. 

What is so smart about lifting dumbbells? 

My father is dead. 

All I can think

When I look at my boyfriend’s nakedness is

That he’s impossibly skinny...  

The hairs on my arm

Raised alarm. 

Ahead are pedophile-like whiskers

And pallid lips.

Ogling while I gulp coffee and read poetry

Is the pervert fish.

Duck, he can’t risk hard evidence, he’s

Been caught before.

His finely tuned sense of smell lets

Him hunt late.

He is a channel cat, Ictalurus punctatus,

Creepy fish.

That old bastard will resurface

Later.

Why am I a mouse?

Fish?

Happy Birthday

Plane tickets, big city, bland lake, me

Will you see me across the Midwest?

Texting from the pilothouse

Fog like milk- your job is lactose intolerant

Fog happens, shit!

You are the novel I haven’t read

By my favorite author.

To William James

Said Gertrude Stein

“What holds the world up?”

“The world rests on the shell of giant turtle.”

“What supports the turtle?”

“The turtle rests on the shell of a larger turtle.”

“What supports the larger turtle?”

“Why it’s turtles all the way down!”

“But it isn’t turtles really…

They are only a vehicle for the metaphor,”

Declared Gertrude Stein.

Its stories all the way down!”

My mother was an island.  She would try to shield me from the worst of her depressions by wrapping me in a thick gray blanket.  We needed a doorbell as loud as a foghorn for me to hear mailman ringing. 

It was a sandy beginning to be sure.  But the trellis made up for it with regular supports and places to play.  There were windows within reach; there was space between the blinds to peak inside. 

I’m a thorny person.  My mother was never angry if I hurt her; she felt that our exchange was source of essential nutrients.  She fed me chocolate ice cream that was dirt dark and gritty. 

She woke me with warmth.  My mother’s salty breath was stronger than a cup of Starbucks coffee.  After a long morning of working, I could nestle into her softness for my late afternoon nap.

…

Everyday

She ventures out

To Brant Point Lighthouse,

Dr. Grobstein brought her up to lighthouse keeping.

Here the storyteller’s problem is the sound;

There the sailor’s problem is the sea.

To see her, an officer ducks

Out on the deck.

Their alchemy

Is tertia non datur.

The third is not given for

Turning base metal into gold.

Her skin tans golden while waiting for him.

She is true, and he only likes true stories.

He learns that Wellington’s are good

For climbing rain slicked boulders,

Other details and facts. 

Every night

He litters his room’s

Floor with facts about her.

The facts are chirping like crickets,

He has an infestation keeping him awake.

Heading to the toilet, he stubs his toe on a fact

He needs a toad.  An anurian she would say,

A story to swallow legs and eyes

And all.

Monday, I texted him, “tell me story…”

Thursday, my mate sat across from me starting with,

“I was walking to work when I was almost run over;

It was a man on a unicycle racing to make the ferry

I being crew, he inquired, ‘if his unicycle could

Be checked with the bicycles.’ ‘That’s correct,’

I told him. ‘But, could I ride his unicycle? I

Had ridden in my youth, and a pony too.’

He assented yet insisted on support,

Which was right because I failed

Only to look down and see

His hands holding me

Not the seat,”

He said.

My eyes read

Highway creed

I haven’t peed

From Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

South and East Orange, New Jersey

   -The north and west sections were already consumed

Exit 155P, New Jersey

   -P is for pole?

The Pelhams, New York

   -No traffic curbing my speed at this hour: 2 am

The George Washington Bridge is a stilted pleasure compared to the Tappan Zee Bridge.

   -TPZ is traveling the length of an alligator from tail to teeth

   -Signage out of the swamp is treacherous

   -I don’t want to go to Albany!  That is the right route.

No Nyack, Nyack, So Nyack

   -Oh my god, that is SO Nyack!

   -What about We Nyack?

Sherwood is Connector, Connecticut

   -Sherwood forest connects to Nottingham

Honey Spot Motor Lodge, Connecticut

   -Who would ever stop there alone?

Housatonic River, Connecticut

   -Who’s satanic? Whose tonic?

Do Not Pick Up Hitchhikers: Correctional Facility Area, Connecticut

   -Then why was there a service plaza ten miles back!

Waterford, Connecticut

   -Keeps my foot from bearing down on the accelerator, a harsh bit

   -A bit harsh

Rest Area, Rhode Island

   -Rhode Island is a rest area for my eyes, never an interesting read,

   -Always a nap

Second officer

And I share fresh strawberries

On the last ferry

Marriage is fighting

About who murdered our old

Dryer in the rain