Issue 11.1 Fall 2015

11.1 cover image


About the Author

Nigel Meyer is a junior majoring in Creative Writing at University of Southern Indiana. Should his poems be accepted it would be his first publication. Nigel lives in Evansville, Indiana.

 

Aubade

 

Nigel Meyer

 

 

You left
a bunch of shit
you know that
you left empty
cans of pop,
bottles of beer
you left their caps
underneath
your futon
where you used
to lie and make
jokes with me
you left it
with the dirty rugs
and cornered cat hair
And what about your
cat—black fur
front left paw
white like
a glove—
am I supposed
to feed it now
at least take it
with you
forgotten towel—the one
that was your mother’s
I could never use it
but I did that time
after the rain

had soaked my hair
and you said
don’t touch my shit
again, and I was scared
because I had never
seen you like that before
your candles
are still here
and I lit them again
you said we burn up
like wicks
but live
in the smoke
these ruins
these relics
are in the way
two days later
I’ll step on a cap, cut
my big toe, curse
the cat and I’ll bleed
for at least a minute
while I remember.

 

 

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