Briquette
There is this person, or, there are those people in the backyard & for some odd reason, in the most unlikely situations, I come to love them. They’re energizing & repulsive. They pulsate gratification. They fill that space, always that space, between myself & others, or myself & the vegetable tray. Then I think about how the best way to do it is blindfolded. How the truth is always urgently vulgar—how I burn my food & eat it & spit it out, & then burn it again & eat it & spit it out. I’ve ruined my best shirt doing this. It’s not an emergency. It’s just, I don’t like leftovers. And I’d rather someone scantily clad than not clad at all. I like a little difficulty. There may be easier, healthier ways of proceeding, but simplicity can’t invoke excitement again & again & again. This is not to say don’t be familiar—just don’t be routine. It’s to stress the importance of surprise, of complication, of you being able to tell me, “You’re wrong. You’re being an asshole.” It’s not about passion completely. It’s about you looking great in a dress & even better in overalls.
+ Previously published in The American Poetry Review. Reprinted in Wives Print Anthology by The Hooghly Review & Hawakal Publishers (India). Inspired by Strike Anywhere by Dean Young (1995) & “Personism” by Frank O’Hara (1959).
This poem is from the book And & And by Bob King (Finishing Line Press), and is available at https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/and-and-by-bob-king/
And & And joins the literary conversation fueled by French & Spanish Surrealists, The New York School, its postmodern proponents & contemporary adherents, & under centripetal force these poems spin & collide with humor, play, empathy, & wild literary-to-pop-culture allusions. At this collection’s core are energetic particles, brief-bright moments of friendship & family, love & loss, grief & gratitude, morality & meaning.
Bob King is an Associate Professor of English at Kent State University at Stark. He lives in Fairview Park, Ohio, with his wife & daughters.
