Two Poems
Andrew Weatherhead
Sequela
The blind cat stakes me out
and pounces. He misses by
a good foot and regroups
under the bed. The sun sets
at four thirty. It hurts
to think. 14,329 messages
and 133 missed calls.
Johnnie Walker Blue.
Riding the escalator at Macy’s,
my bulbous-reflection-in-
the-mirrored-aluminum ass
pays twice what a white
shirt is worth. An ambrosial accent
from the handbag department.
I read some bad news about a friend.
I ask my nephew a question
and he shits his pants.
Nature Pauvre
Watching the neighbors watch
Dateline.
Shadows waver on the lawn
like an occupying force.
Bleeding out – it’s all so normal.
Brutal combinations of the real
over our sad, earthly abstractions.
The sky is not so beautiful today.
And beliefs come unbidden
like a train gliding into a mountain.
The effect has an effect
which has an effect —
almost neat.
Andrew Weatherhead is from Wilmette, IL and lives in Glens Falls, NY. He is the author of three poetry collections — $50,000, TODD, and Cats and Dogs.