by Camille Guthrie
It may be true
that I’m limerent
for you another victim
of love I’ve got all
the relevant symptoms
At the Dairy Bar waiting
for fries I see you
lunching with a friend
mood-dependent I’m ready
to pour vats of ketchup
onto her head, yet when
you say hey I order
rainbow sprinkles
for everybody
I remember every bit
of how you explained
the ancient trade routes
so cute! I tried concealing
my need to sob into
your shoulder to disguise
my longing for reciprocal
feelings—denied
Oh, you know that Tuesday
you pressed me hard
up in the hallway below
the Manet print and kissed
me till Doomsday and promised
me true love halfway? That’s
a day I often replay
The tears haven’t ceased
because you didn’t invite me
to watch a John Candy movie
but you asked Lucie and Abby I
hate you I hate every lady
ever born I hate everything
from the eighties I’m going
to run a film fest of Italian
revenge films from the sixties
and not invite you especially
not Abby nor Lucie
Like a tween the moment
Zayn left the band
my love’s intensified by
adversity like when
you left for a seaside vacation
and never sent one
postcard I cried so bad
Oversensitive to random
interactions I hope to bump
into you at the Rite Aid
that shampoo and shaving cream
in your basket quite attractive
I want action in the aisle of lotions
Who are the condoms for?
Me? Better be
Sometimes you pass me by
in your little rusted-door car
your quick wink at
the stop sign fills
me with religious
adoration
Upon waking much
aching in the heart
at four in the morning
snow’s coming down hard
I’m aging alone
online dating’s
not for the weak
I’d rather be mating
for life like wolves
or prairie voles but
you’re ice-skating arm-in-
arm with a waitress it’s just
degrading heartbreak
My feminist friends
think I’m insane
to wait for you
endlessly my nemesis
at yoga thinks you
merely feign interest
Even my therapist so patient
when I complain says,
Do we need to
talk about this again?
There’s an election
presidential there are wolves
moving south from the ice melt
floods left Louisiana
a disaster area dire world
affairs but tonight you
brought bubbly wine
called me honey and
I am walking on air
Last updated December 21, 2022