Elevator Music by Christa Romanosky

We never cared for opera, our mouths were just for kissing: maps, fast food,
phosphorescent bourbon, then you went rogue, and that was life. I followed

horoscopes, fortune-tellers into heavenly basements, anything was better
if I felt “found.” She said, “You will have success but never love.” I wanted

someone to prove it. Sunflowers strung into gravely sunlight, littered
cities, everything else gleaned. And I thought of you on jets, worldwide,

dreaming of Carl Sagan, eating tortoise on Western shores, not yet
holy but believing in strategies and making deadlines – while I watched

red plum saplings sprout like pins, crawled into sauna just to feel
the threshold met, time perch – everything exhale claret. Not dreaming

but becoming more animal. The fuzz of my thigh lifting
when doorways gaped, prayers exhumed. That is how I went about my life

waiting for you: developing pyrotechnic tendencies, a sixth sense for dangerous
men. Sometimes indulging, but never resulting. I still believe

you must get under things to understand anyone, but I prefer
to make quick exits, avoid ruins. Often I am not “lost” at all, but missing

childhood, maternal soothe. They say “solo” is not technically
a disorder, but the factories close around me, and the nights stay up so late.

From: http://vinylpoetryandprose.com/2017/06/christa-romanosky/

Date: 2017

By: Christa Romanosky (19??- )

Tags: 2017, christa romanosky, elevator music, poetry, we never cared for opera our mouths were just for kissing: maps fast food