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Category archive for: Dobby Gibson

Now Where Were We?

In this weather it’s tough

to make a clean getaway

in stolen bishop’s slippers,

the bridesmaids smashing wine glasses,

trucks not thinking twice

about driving onto the ice

and making a bonfire

out of used Christmas trees.

Scoreboard: noon sun, moon none.

Hoods up and hats on,

fresh track marks in the talk track,

lost walkie-talkies talking in tongues,

come in come in, got your ears on?

Even though we’re mostly eyes.

Even though we shouldn’t be trusted with teeth.

Somewhere far from here there’s a beach

where cormorants chase the shags

and beauty has tricked itself into believing

it’s immune from extinction

in a way that ends each day

in a sunset that doesn’t make you feel

as if you aren’t keeping up,

someone grandfathered you in.

Your dogs of war doze patiently

by the door. Your cats of peace

teach themselves to climb ladders.

Try as we may, it’s clear

we’re going to experience everything

not quite twice.

When you finish skating,

you have to reach down with bare hands

and remove each blade carefully

from the bottoms of your feet.

from Poetry Northwest 12.2 Winter & Spring 2018More by Dobby Gibson from the library

Copyright © Dobby Gibson
Used with the permission of the author
on behalf of Poetry Northwest.

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this (publication, website, exhibit, etc.) do not necessarily represent those of the Idaho Humanities Council or the National Endowment for the Humanities.