[lineate]Tonight, holding a stranger[/lineate]
[lineate indent=4]in my arms—[/lineate]
[lineate]heat lightning,[/lineate]
[lineate]cyclone-level tempests—[/lineate]
[lineate]I thought of you,[/lineate]
[lineate]alone,[/lineate]
[lineate]or not alone,[/lineate]
[lineate]in our distant hometown[/lineate]
[lineate]during those last minutes[/lineate]
[lineate]when the dive bars[/lineate]
[lineate]and the dance pubs,[/lineate]
[lineate]with their sleazy clientele,[/lineate]
[lineate]are closing—[/lineate]
[lineate]Some strangers pairing off,[/lineate]
[lineate]each desiring[/lineate]
[lineate]what little numbness[/lineate]
[lineate]the other offers…[/lineate]
[lineate]the lukewarm neon[/lineate]
[lineate indent=4]an oil spill[/lineate]
[lineate]in puddles of rain…[/lineate]
[lineate]Our clubs. Our hometown—[/lineate]
[lineate]No.[/lineate]
[lineate]Holding her, not you,[/lineate]
[lineate]my clubs, my hometown.[/lineate]
[lineate]I watched clouds[/lineate]
[lineate]empty themselves,[/lineate]
[lineate]watched until the probing rays[/lineate]
[lineate]of sunrise pointed out[/lineate]
[lineate]the water damaged ceiling,[/lineate]
[lineate]pointed out the ripped-off blue dress,[/lineate]
[lineate indent=4]the recycled syringes,[/lineate]
[lineate]as if the sunlight could hold[/lineate]
[lineate indent=4]all things, each piece[/lineate]
[lineate]of evidence,[/lineate]
[lineate]to show me,[/lineate]
[lineate]or make me realize—[/lineate]
[lineate]But it can’t,[/lineate]
[lineate]or isn’t trying hard enough.[/lineate]
[stanza][lineate]All night I’ve slept,[/lineate]
[lineate indent=4]or not slept,[/lineate]
[lineate]with some woman who,[/lineate]
[lineate]tomorrow,[/lineate]
[lineate]I probably will not want[/lineate]
[lineate]to see again—[/lineate]
[lineate]Who will probably feel[/lineate]
[lineate]the same way about me.[/lineate]
[lineate]At least I’ll never[/lineate]
[lineate]have to deal with her again.[/lineate]
[lineate]Soon, she’ll migrate with another stranger—[/lineate]
[lineate]I don’t expect anything more.[/lineate]
[stanza][lineate]Our hometown seems so far,[/lineate]
[lineate indent=4]and the moments I miss…[/lineate]
[lineate]even though they were,[/lineate]
[lineate indent=4]more likely,[/lineate]
[lineate]ordinary,[/lineate]
[lineate]like any memories—[/lineate]
[lineate]hooked by human love,[/lineate]
[lineate]the most relentless of barbs.[/lineate]
[lineate]I remember,[/lineate]
[lineate]after threatening your other man,[/lineate]
[lineate]a mother blue jay building[/lineate]
[lineate]her nest, twig by twig,[/lineate]
[lineate indent=4]fiber by fiber,[/lineate]
[lineate]constructing it so solemnly,[/lineate]
[lineate]as if it mattered…[/lineate]
[lineate]sizing it up[/lineate]
[lineate indent=4]with such care.[/lineate]
~ Domenic Scopa
Domenic Scopa is a three-time Pushcart Prize nominee and the 2014 recipient of the Robert K. Johnson Poetry Prize and Garvin Tate Merit Scholarship. He is a student of the Vermont College of Fine Arts MFA Program, where he studies poetry and translation, and he is a literature professor at Changing Lives Through Literature. He currently resides in Boston, Massachusetts.