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Two Poems
by Erin Bealmear
Don’t Be Absurd
Whenever we talk, I feel
like I'm trapped
in a Beckett play.
You never answer
my questions.
You just talk nonsense
confusing me
with your vagueness
and hidden meaning
and when I tell you that I'm leaving
neither one of us exits
the scene.
We just sit
in this same room
never pulling up
floorboards
only speaking
in circles
and waiting
for something
to happen.
Dali is Creepy
My Aunt Jane was eating
lunch
with her cousin Jill
in a restaurant
in New York City
when he approached
their table,
his fingernails filthy
his smell, like a dirty child.
I would very much like to
paint you,
he told Jill.
Aunt Jane rolled her eyes
and kicked Jill
underneath the table.
No, I don't think so
Jill replied,
trying not to giggle.
But even though they told him
that they weren't interested
he remained standing
next to them.
He just stood there
his strange mustache
hanging over
their pasta
and stared
but they went right on talking
to each other
Jill and Aunt Jane
like he wasn't in the room.
They talked
about the weather
about the food
about Jane's new shoes
and the clocked ticked on.
Ignore, ignore, ignore.
That's what they did
until finally, he went away.
Erin Bealmear's poetry has been published in Bogg, Nerve Cowboy, Opium, The Cortland Review, CrossConnect, The Rambler, Main Street Rag, and Identity Theory, among others. She was also a finalist in the New Issues Poetry Prize and the Mudfish Poetry Prize. The cuteness of vintage Pyrex often overwhelms her. For more info, go to www.takeoffyourveil.com.
In Posse: Potentially, might be . . .
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