·
Jeffrey Bryant
On dirty keys I pound out
the best of all possible futures
in junior college typing.
the best of all possible futures
in junior college typing.
I write love poems to the teacher
who could use a little right now,
struggling with ribbons.
who could use a little right now,
struggling with ribbons.
He looks at one I typed.
A smile grows when he reads:
A smile grows when he reads:
"It doesn't matter that you're married.
I know what you're thinking.
The answer is yes."
I know what you're thinking.
The answer is yes."
An offer,
properly spaced,
grammatically sound,
perfectly punctuated,
formal letter serious.
properly spaced,
grammatically sound,
perfectly punctuated,
formal letter serious.
Signed,
Yours in anticipation.
We get vending machine coffee,
with extra whitener,
talk about teaching
with extra whitener,
talk about teaching
and running away.
He sits on my bed,
pulls the wedding ring off.
He sits on my bed,
pulls the wedding ring off.
Leave it on I say,
you don't want to lose it,
plus, I think you're hotter
you don't want to lose it,
plus, I think you're hotter
when you're conflicted.
He leaves at midnight,
practicing excuses.
He leaves at midnight,
practicing excuses.
I think of his home row
and ribbon inked fingers,
the plus sign he squeezed
and ribbon inked fingers,
the plus sign he squeezed
after my A,
typing his divorce papers
during spring break,
typing his divorce papers
during spring break,
both of us imagining
the best of all possible futures.
the best of all possible futures.
Jeffrey Bryant is a Pushcart-nominated queer poet/writer who lives in Los Angeles. His work has appeared in the LA Weekly, the Los Angeles Times, Poetic Diversity, New Verse News, Poetrysuperhighway.com, Synkroniciti Magazine, Quill, and Echo. His work has also appeared in the anthologies The Coiled Serpent; the Altadena Literary Review; Shadowplay Literary Journal from the University of Arkansas and Sparring with Beatnik Ghosts.