I think I am offended.
Let the poem begin with a coma,
or at least a cry in the dark.
My wife speaks English to me and the pigeons.
There are only a few properties worth having
in games of Monopoly. I always go for Park
Place. We all have a right to live out our dreams.
If you can’t walk, at least you can be free of dread.
I’ve applied this year to be king of the moment. My
wife saves her Japanese for other human beings, and
demands that I sleep on the balcony with the wash,
except when it is raining, or when she is expecting
a visitor such as the Emperor, his bodyguards, and
I’ve agreed to let Cary go, even though I never said
I loved him; I do wish he had been allowed to stay.
It has meant that I have never been true to myself.
David Lohrey’s plays have been produced in Switzerland, Canada, and Lithuania. His poems can be found at The Dead Mule School, Expat Press, Terror House, and New Orleans Review, along with the University of Alabama, Illinois State, and Michigan State University. His fiction appears in Storgy Magazine, Terror House Magazine, and Literally Stories. David’s first collection of poetry, Machiavelli’s Backyard, was published in 2017. His newest collection, Bluff City, appeared this month, published by Terror House Press.