but mostly she’s just itching to kick
December 19, 2013 § Leave a comment
Though she normally wrote her letters on blank, unlined pages,
she was not opposed to invention born of need and whimsy.
Sometimes she used napkins and stapled paper towels.
Rarer, but no less memorable, were those sent
on the backside of grocery receipts,
various iterations of “Thank you for shopping”
exact-o-knifed from the front and used as the note’s closing,
or expired prescriptions.
A few times the multi-columned whitespace of her check stubs
(all the numbers blackened-out but the final four digits of her Social Security),
so you know for sure it’s from me.
And once a matchstick cover (matchsticks removed),
with a single word, underlined: “Used.”
The hard leftward slant of her cursive
made each letter seem to pull back
and away from its use
in or as a word.
Her clauses closed and accumulated, they declared and exclaimed,
and despite the visual resistance, her meaning would but precariously tip,
He likened it to a rearing horse, If you didn’t know better,
you’d think it was from fear;
but mostly she’s just itching to kick.