2 poems, February 1 and 2

February 1st Florida Poem

he says, "expect it, prepare for it, pack for it,
what do you want?! It's February in florida!"
he revels in the fact
there isn't snow, no misery of the inclement
nature of winter Cleveland weather
nothing can compare
nothing gets better
than February Florida

his gestures scream happy-ness
he gets giddy, gets theatrical
happily theatrical
theatrically happy
he dances down streets
across parking lots

the weather
apparently
sets the stage for a life
dictates the quality of a life
how could I have lived this long and not known?

he leaves me baffled
staring at my open mouth
in the boat house mirror
passer-bys with eyes averted
staring into the sun
believers in weather
the goodness of weather
they are the chosen in the promised land

how could I have ever known
the good life
lies below the frost line?

Karen Saint

February 2nd Deja Vu

he seems too comfortable
squeezing in between
2 young blonde things at
the Long House Bar, high-top-table

she stands purposely tall
behind him, a rush of blood pinking
her cheeks, leans forward to place
her hand on the table

between him and the 2 blonde things
her left hand
with the 2 rings on the designated
finger, clears her throat

he straightens a bit in his suit
his tie, and says, "this is Shannon
and Cookie" before leaning his head
back into the blonde conversation

next door is a drug store where
she finds an old flame
lays down next to him on a
mattress in the middle of nowhere

there is no going back
she doesn't recognize his scent
his hands are foreign objects
the pressure is all wrong

later, she irons ripped jeans
a faded dust-blue cotton
shirt, they are man clothes
she swims in them

they begin the dance of musical beds
but she never takes off her clothes
says, "I have been here before"

the fear wells up in her
shakes her, wakes her
beside the man she calls
husband
and when she moves
in sleep, he holds her
awake
her sigh of relief, audible.

karen saint