Three Poems by Chase J. Padusniak


All the Reasons I Love You (or אֵיכָה‎)

1. Your Chihuahua.
a. Which I have never seen, but,
b. from what you’ve shown me, man
c. is (s)he cute.
(I forget).

1. Your hair.
a. Not of a natural color.
b. But we don’t much agree on what
c. “natural”
d. means anyway; I
e. mean, at minimum,
f. we can say that no one
g. has been born with blue hair, though
h. when it was gray, you might’ve
i. passed
j. for my beloved
k. grandmother,
l. who is not yet
m. passed.

2. Your tattoo.
a. You did it yourself.
b. Yes, I mean that one; indeed,
c. not that one,
d. mounting
e. the combs of your ribs, which,
f. inevitably I traced, but never really
g. managed to complete with my fingers.
h. No, that one,
i. the line(aments) of
j. your
k. ankle, plump, but
l. beloved.

3. Your song.
a. We did it ourselves.
b. Not so much

c. “we”
d. as the ineluctable “you,”
e. but(t) (and yes I love)
f. still, the one you sang me
g. —
h. Impossibly after you’d said
i. —no more.
j. You, Logic, sang “Mother Concrete”
k. and I kissed the air, my parched
l. cigarette of a mouth, and not
m. yours.

4. You.
a. This is, sure,
b. neither incomplete, nor really,
c. complete, but, instead, a
d. testament (both new and old)
e. to—what did
f. Henry call it?
g. More life.

5. Image.
a. I am he—the one—but
b. Not, no, no, no, the “only one”
c. who has known the wrath of
d. יהוה.
e. $,
f. however, knows this wrath
g. alone;
h. against $ has He
i. Turned his broad, olive hand,
j. Filled with sand,
k. Upon his kidneys.
l. He burns and
m. I will call
n. to mind:
o. a dog,
p. a tattoo,
q. a song, and
r. will see.

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