I had to do a one-page poem for a creative writing class (only taking it due to it being a pre-req. for poetry workshop) and actually ended up being really affected by it. Not sure if this is suitable for a blog, but its a memory from when I was younger that I think about most days.
In the age of of annual nuclear holocaust threats,
The nuclear family has become obliterated.
I grew up under that whole
"Now, at least half of American marriages
End in divorce.” I probably
Couldn’t have joined a less
Desirable, less camaraderie-fueling,
More helpless trend.
It was just me
And Bart and Lisa.
And our recently moved into home
With Most of our stuff in boxes still.
I’m not sure how we got through the days.
That’s a euphemism for “I know how
But they appear in my memory as a blur of extended family discussion
And consolation that evaporates instantaneously.”
However, a good memory
Is that of every weekend in the aftermath
We left it behind for a few hours
When my Mom took me, Bart, and Lisa
And drove around Long Island highways that I’ve driven
Alone now certainly, but too long ago then to remember which.
For hours just circling, going by the beach
Going anywhere but that thing that masqueraded as home.
I don’t remember if I was in passenger seat
Or in the backseat with Lisa wagging her tail
Bridging herself from the backseat to the center console
And Bart, on those trademark corgi short hind legs