Matthew Savoca
spanish explorer
i got up to turn off the space heater so that it wouldn't use energy during the night
you were wrapped up in the blankets, saying that you had forgotten to do something
important, i watched the way your face moved as you said it
i moved my body around the room, discovering things i already knew were there
and briefly saw myself as a famous spanish explorer in the act of finding something
that was going to be found anyway
when i moved towards the hallway, you had no reaction
towards the closet made you bored, i could see that
while somehow the exact center of the room seemed to excite you
and i remember wondering about pregnancy, whether or not it could make someone
really good at something
as i backed up slowly towards your dresser, i saw you make a face i'd never seen before and thought
“YES! another new one! add it to the books!” then watched closely
while making minute adjustments to where my feet were in relation to my body
i'm pretty sure i looked like a modern dancer
wearing flesh colored underwear with a dark spot in the crotch
and a pale yellow t-shirt displaying the state flag of montana
it has the tiniest trees on it, and this funny little shovel
this poem mentions what i'm not going to do
i'm not going to stuff our bodies into a locker
or somewhere else safe
i'm not going to tase you with a taser
and then jump right into the ocean
i'm not going to say “sorry” anymore
not going to say it that way
or with an “i'm” in front of it
i'm not going to say anything else
nothing in its place
there's nothing in the place of sorry
in sorry's place
there's nothing i can do about this
any of it
i'm not going to say “HEY” and then wait
for something else to come out of my mouth
i'm just not