{"id":1820,"date":"2012-10-22T14:57:18","date_gmt":"2012-10-22T14:57:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=1820"},"modified":"2012-10-22T14:57:18","modified_gmt":"2012-10-22T14:57:18","slug":"james-valvis-1012","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/james-valvis-1012\/","title":{"rendered":"James Valvis, 10\/12"},"content":{"rendered":"

No Need<\/strong>
\nWhen my first wife and I married
\nat the courthouse in Palatka–
\na fine summer day, if windy–
\nshe was wearing white
\neven though
\nit was her second marriage
\nand I was wearing a blue shirt
\nwith faces printed on it;
\nand we walked
\nto a small canap\u00e9
\nsurrounded by great oaks
\nwhere the Clerk of the Court
\nread us vows we then repeated,
\n“For richer or poorer…
\nin sickness and in health…
\ntill death do us part…”
\nAnd I kissed my new bride,
\nthe love of my life,
\nthe woman
\nwho’d bear my children,
\nand I swear I felt so much love
\nI almost cried.
\nBut what must be realized is
\nthis was just one moment
\nin two people’s lives
\nin a world of billions of people
\nliving billions of such moments.
\nNo need to get sentimental about it.
\nShe didn’t.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Dad in the Canoe<\/strong>
\nMonkey with flippers
\nthat keep falling
\nPugil-stick fighter
\nmaking a stand
\nBaton twirler for
\na one-man band<\/p>\n

So much city street
\nso little curb
\nSo much strained laughter
\nso far ashore
\nHe stabs at the water
\nsoaks stockinged feet<\/p>\n

The canoe now bounces
\ncreek bed to creek
\nFrom tree to sidelined tree
\noars tangle twigs
\nCurses drift downstream
\nwith snapped branches<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Something Stupid This Way Comes<\/strong>
\nShe latched onto me like a thing with claws,
\nand just wanting to get out and join
\nthe anonymity of the crowd, to become
\na face among the faceless, I couldn’t find a way
\nto get rid of her. She looked like a worn shoe
\nand smelt like death in a box, and we walked
\nthe avenues with the college uneducated,
\nregular people who made sense to each other.
\nI was tired with my thoughts and my ways,
\nand oh how I longed for love but
\non my terms this time, not the laws
\nset by the faithless unfaithful. It was Friday,
\ntime enough to believe this weekend
\nwouldn’t become another fuzzy nothing,
\nbut first I had to be rid of her. Had to, else nothing.
\nWhile we walked, she told me about her father
\nlistening to her having sex in the next room.
\nI was bored. We sat near a church
\nand she told me more about her father.
\nThen her brother. Finally getting to her lovers,
\nboys who had held her like their last dollar,
\ntold her they couldn’t live without her.
\nWell, I could live without her. In fact,
\nI could live without anyone, though a few
\ntouched me in ways I hadn’t expected,
\nleft me almost crippled with misery.
\nBeautiful faceless women turned every corner,
\nheaded north and south with no thought
\ngiven to my existence. It was horrifying.
\nThe one I was with was dressed in black,
\nface as wrinkled and ugly as a walnut,
\nand she wouldn’t go. She wouldn’t leave.
\nI stood and started to walk away from her,
\nbut she tailed behind and then caught up.
\nFinally, I gave up and put my arm around her
\nand we walked down the avenue, pretending love.
\nAnd I thought, Why do I always get the freaks,
\nthe weird, trapped, lonely, and unhappy?
\nI thought, Why do I always get the ones just like me?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/em><\/p>\n

James Valvis is the author of HOW TO SAY GOODBYE (Aortic Books, 2011). His writing can be found in Anderbo, Arts & Letters, Crab Creek Review, Juked, LA Review, Rattle, Red Fez, River Styx, and storySouth. His poetry has been featured at Verse Daily and the Best American Poetry website. His fiction has twice been a Million Writers Notable Story. He lives near Seattle.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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