Other People’s Wedding Guests
- Other People’s Wedding Guests
This is not a poem but a corner. What if nothing is alive where
we are going? That summer, before I saw this blink of person, I just knew
I would see him. My friend: I’ll tell you what to saynear him. But of course, she
couldn’t. Of course, I saw him dancing: his thrown arms with music. Back in place,
at my apartment, I could breathe. He used to visit an old home, where I lived
years before. Back then, when he was close, there were fields of corn beside my building.
I could see approaching weather. Here: I have bare parking lots in late October sun.
From my window, I can see into a gym. I look every day into weight
lifts, curls, presses. A gym is not a poem. But bodies can be. Arms
that keep lifting over and over. [End Page 107]
Lindsay Tigue won the Iowa Poetry Prize for her first book, System of Ghosts (University of Iowa Press, 2016) and her work appears in Prairie Schooner, Indiana Review, Hayden’s Ferry Review, and elsewhere. She is currently a PhD student in creative writing at the University of Georgia.
