Corey Mesler
four poems
**
The Living within the Longing
The afternoon yearning.
The yard after rain.
The dog at the door.
The light over the curb.
The way the teenagers
gather on the porch.
The way they turn out
the light to smoke.
The sprinkler’s rainbow.
The rats that crave
the birdfeed.
The movement up and
down the street.
The neighbor’s rest-
lessness. The click of the
lock before bed.
The way the light shines
around the top of
the bookcase. The shadows
of the spines. The
spines of books. The
books that we will read
in our short time left.
The teenagers’ passions.
The dog circling the precise
spot. The way the
sheets manacle our legs.
The bed empty. The
morning at last. The
afternoon yawning. The call
of sleep right before
the lock clicks. The prayers
we offer. The endless
prayers. The silence.
The neighbors’ blindness.
The neighbor’s deafness.
The way the dog cocks its
head. The click again
of the lock. The silence.
**
There, or Nearly
The desire alone is enough.
The follow-through
a cloud.
The voice, once so far, moves
nearer. The warmth
is a cloud.
I lean forward and almost touch
you. The
almost is almost enough.
**
A Story, and Gayla
I had a story once.
I wrote it down and sent it to Gayla.
She woke one morning
and her hair was made of spun gold.
She looked around
for a hairbrush, or a man, someone
to stand up straight and
talk. Later, the story found its way
into Gayla’s dresser drawer.
There it took on a life
of its own. Now, many years later
Gayla calls me and asks
if I remember that morning, the one
after, the one where
her hair appeared to be spun gold.
I say, no, sorry, I
remember nothing. Suddenly, Gayla
thinks about a story.
She wants to write it down and send
it to someone from her past,
someone who remembers better than
I do. Remarkably, my
story and hers are so similar that they
seem to be from one pen.
**
The Halloween Between Us
We set the pumpkin on the porch
as if it were our child in a basket.
The night was torn, dark slashes
across the sheets. The moon appeared.
You reached for my heart laid
suddenly open. I tried to make up the
difference in your eyes, just as
the wolfman came in the wolfman’s disguise.
**
return to sawbuck 1.1
**
Corey Mesler is the owner of Burke’s Book Store, in Memphis, Tennessee, one of the country’s oldest (1875) and best independent bookstores. He has published poetry and fiction in numerous journals including Rattle, Pindeldyboz, Quick Fiction, Cranky, Thema, Mars Hill Review, Adirondack Review, Poet Lore and others. He has also been a book reviewer for The Memphis Commercial Appeal and Memphis Flyer. A short story of his was chosen for the 2002 edition of New Stories from the South: The Year’s Best, published by Algonquin Books. Talk, his first novel, appeared in 2002. His new novel, We Are Billion-Year-Old Carbon, came out in January 2006. His latest poetry chapbooks are Short Story and Other Short Stories (2006), The Hole in Sleep (2006), The Lita Conversation (2006) and The Agoraphobe’s Pandiculations (2006). His poem, “Sweet Annie Divine,” was chosen for Garrison Keillor’s The Writer’s Almanac. He also claims to have written “Gitarzan.” Most importantly, he is Toby and Chloe’s dad and Cheryl’s husband. He can be found at www.coreymesler.com.
**
The Living within the Longing
The afternoon yearning.
The yard after rain.
The dog at the door.
The light over the curb.
The way the teenagers
gather on the porch.
The way they turn out
the light to smoke.
The sprinkler’s rainbow.
The rats that crave
the birdfeed.
The movement up and
down the street.
The neighbor’s rest-
lessness. The click of the
lock before bed.
The way the light shines
around the top of
the bookcase. The shadows
of the spines. The
spines of books. The
books that we will read
in our short time left.
The teenagers’ passions.
The dog circling the precise
spot. The way the
sheets manacle our legs.
The bed empty. The
morning at last. The
afternoon yawning. The call
of sleep right before
the lock clicks. The prayers
we offer. The endless
prayers. The silence.
The neighbors’ blindness.
The neighbor’s deafness.
The way the dog cocks its
head. The click again
of the lock. The silence.
**
There, or Nearly
The desire alone is enough.
The follow-through
a cloud.
The voice, once so far, moves
nearer. The warmth
is a cloud.
I lean forward and almost touch
you. The
almost is almost enough.
**
A Story, and Gayla
I had a story once.
I wrote it down and sent it to Gayla.
She woke one morning
and her hair was made of spun gold.
She looked around
for a hairbrush, or a man, someone
to stand up straight and
talk. Later, the story found its way
into Gayla’s dresser drawer.
There it took on a life
of its own. Now, many years later
Gayla calls me and asks
if I remember that morning, the one
after, the one where
her hair appeared to be spun gold.
I say, no, sorry, I
remember nothing. Suddenly, Gayla
thinks about a story.
She wants to write it down and send
it to someone from her past,
someone who remembers better than
I do. Remarkably, my
story and hers are so similar that they
seem to be from one pen.
**
The Halloween Between Us
We set the pumpkin on the porch
as if it were our child in a basket.
The night was torn, dark slashes
across the sheets. The moon appeared.
You reached for my heart laid
suddenly open. I tried to make up the
difference in your eyes, just as
the wolfman came in the wolfman’s disguise.
**
return to sawbuck 1.1
**
Corey Mesler is the owner of Burke’s Book Store, in Memphis, Tennessee, one of the country’s oldest (1875) and best independent bookstores. He has published poetry and fiction in numerous journals including Rattle, Pindeldyboz, Quick Fiction, Cranky, Thema, Mars Hill Review, Adirondack Review, Poet Lore and others. He has also been a book reviewer for The Memphis Commercial Appeal and Memphis Flyer. A short story of his was chosen for the 2002 edition of New Stories from the South: The Year’s Best, published by Algonquin Books. Talk, his first novel, appeared in 2002. His new novel, We Are Billion-Year-Old Carbon, came out in January 2006. His latest poetry chapbooks are Short Story and Other Short Stories (2006), The Hole in Sleep (2006), The Lita Conversation (2006) and The Agoraphobe’s Pandiculations (2006). His poem, “Sweet Annie Divine,” was chosen for Garrison Keillor’s The Writer’s Almanac. He also claims to have written “Gitarzan.” Most importantly, he is Toby and Chloe’s dad and Cheryl’s husband. He can be found at www.coreymesler.com.
