- Over Hanover and Back Again
Grocery isles just go on forever in towns without imagination — look for plot points between stockboys. We were on a mission. We were watching John Travolta in Paris. You slept in Ann Arbor and I slept in Lincoln. He wore a cowboy hat all the time. She played the cello a long time ago. There was a cafe, there was a cross-country move. There was Texas or New York. There was the one office party for your engagement and my birthday. I got a panda that sang “Ice Ice Baby.” You got divorced. I drove hours. You skipped rocks like hearts or hearts like rocks. There’s a skip on this record. There’s a pinhole for “Yes” to slip through.
There’s Lucy with the football again. There’s Charlie Brown prematurely balding.
There’s an itchy wig with a name in the stitching. There’s a different sky
when you’re flat on your back. It’s how stars pinprick through black silk pajamas, slide next to you in bed and then, then, then answer the phone with doubt. [End Page 32]
Jim Warner’s poetry has appeared in various journals including the North American Review, PANK Magazine, and Drunken Boat, and he is the author of two collections, Too Bad It’s Poetry (2007) and Social Studies (2010). He is the managing editor of Quiddity, housed at Benedictine University in Springfield, Illinois.