We got to the pier just as the boat was pulling away.
In the distance, a single cloud glowered. The air
Felt like sand, although it remained
Breathable. We walked
Back through town, where the parade
Was still beginning. Five high school bands
Marched by, each playing “Tangerine”
In microtonal variations. I wanted
A pretzel. While my back was turned,
The unicorns passed, silent, side
By side, just like they do in ancient drawings.
I didn’t see a single one.
Afterwards, Amber reminded me
To tell her all the poems she figured in.
I made an Excel chart, including “Lucinda,”
“The Waste Land,” “Globe,” and some others
She’d never heard of. “I hate all those poems,”
She said. “You promised you’d write a poem
About the time we got to the pier
Just as the boat was pulling away. You promised,
But you never did.”
from The Waste Land and Other PoemsFind more by John Beer at the library
Copyright © 2010 John Beer
Used with the permission of Canarium Books.