Regular Poem: Lazy Saturday

16 Apr

it’s like
right on the tip of your tongue
that fizzy feeling right before a headache starts
the chord that starts the chorus of the song you can’t remember

it’s like
the small chill in a gust of mostly warm wind
the item you keep forgetting and almost remembering on your grocery list
the last four numbers in a phone number that always get switched around

it’s like
that perfume you recognize but can’t place
that face you saw in the crowd and can’t name
how your pocket feels when you’ve forgotten something you usually carry there

a lazy saturday
is just like that
too lazy
potential tittering and teasing
and wasted
too quiet
and mercifully gone


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