We are just another love story after all: boy-meets-girl, divorces, finds a younger girl, divorces, finds a younger one yet. I try not to see the pattern, to think about bigger things than the "we" of it, consider how lucky I am to have not been shot so far this year, to have a house and a garden & a gym membership, friends I can call & drink with when the pattern is too front-and-center; that I’m not the one asking change on a dark street corner & knowing too much about the shortcoming of shelters in the Slip, baby slung about cold neck, stroller-pushing uphill, always uphill (twice in as many hours men with their hands out for a place to stay, money, a hotel, anything). How lucky that poems don’t have that peril, that dip & lunge; what a gift, this luxury to share our suicide attempts, our fears, our beliefs, our rapes. That even though the past ghosts our present, how we can sip them with wine, shut the doors if we want, discuss their shortcomings nicely, and go home.
Joanna Suzanne Lee is a poet, maybe-playwright, and semi-professional muse. She is currently board chair of the James River Writers, is a founder of Richmond's River City Poets, and encourages you to get involved with both at http://jamesriverwriters.org and http://rivercitypoets.com, respectively.