Two POEMS
LELAND SEESE
While the Critical Response Team Stood Near
I want to carry you
to soft beach sand
sifted
to pine-scented
limestone
dug up
to compromise
this concrete sidewalk
where you have fallen
maybe fractured
yourself
the only way you know
to escape
trauma is to run
like hell
until you fall
ache
in your bones
plays a trick
on deeper
pain
I Surface into Insomnia from Deep Sea Dreams
Glide down to the corner store
through green-black water,
ocean’s floor.
Bucolic blob fish minds the register.
I buy anxiety in bulk.
Cock-eyed squid beside a boulder,
eyeball rolling,
trolling for a mate.
That stoplight loose jaw just eats krill.
Lurch toward the surface,
mortal panic at your heels.
Jerk awake.
A wave has thrown me
to the sandy shore.
What’s wrong? my wife inquires, half-asleep.
Bad dream is my reply. Her breathing
lengthens into rolling waves.
Our living room is terra firma.
The sofa is a sofa. Coffee table. Magazines.
No creepy fish come swishing through.
I check the waking world’s anxieties.
Burners—off.
Rat hole under dishwasher—duct taped.
Bank account still overdrawn.
Not a nipping goblin shark in sight.
I get up to return to bed.
Bulbous blob fish bumps its nose
against the windowpane
beside a shopping bag—
bulk anxiety I left behind.
I want to carry you
to soft beach sand
sifted
to pine-scented
limestone
dug up
to compromise
this concrete sidewalk
where you have fallen
maybe fractured
yourself
the only way you know
to escape
trauma is to run
like hell
until you fall
ache
in your bones
plays a trick
on deeper
pain
I Surface into Insomnia from Deep Sea Dreams
Glide down to the corner store
through green-black water,
ocean’s floor.
Bucolic blob fish minds the register.
I buy anxiety in bulk.
Cock-eyed squid beside a boulder,
eyeball rolling,
trolling for a mate.
That stoplight loose jaw just eats krill.
Lurch toward the surface,
mortal panic at your heels.
Jerk awake.
A wave has thrown me
to the sandy shore.
What’s wrong? my wife inquires, half-asleep.
Bad dream is my reply. Her breathing
lengthens into rolling waves.
Our living room is terra firma.
The sofa is a sofa. Coffee table. Magazines.
No creepy fish come swishing through.
I check the waking world’s anxieties.
Burners—off.
Rat hole under dishwasher—duct taped.
Bank account still overdrawn.
Not a nipping goblin shark in sight.
I get up to return to bed.
Bulbous blob fish bumps its nose
against the windowpane
beside a shopping bag—
bulk anxiety I left behind.
Leland Seese's poems appear in Frontier Poetry, The Chestnut Review, The Stonecoast Review, RHINO, Rust & Moth, and many other journals. He lives in Seattle. More of his poems can be found at www.lelandseesepoetry.com.