To James Tate
I thought I had
all things considered,
but you know how
to prove me wrong.
Militiamen in ponchos
hold lanterns in the rain.
They patiently wait
until the train stops chugging.
Why are they waiting?
I kept receipts and filaments.
I thought I had
all things considered.
I used to want to work
for NASA and build
spaceships. I know
the universe is expanding.
I walk in magazines,
avoid pillars. I
stop occasionally
to look at fountains.
Narratives and puns
are beacons of posters,
but you know how
to prove me wrong.
There is something
to prove in all of
this, even if you don’t
believe me. Ask
my friends, they’ll tell
you not to ask for help.
I’m not exactly sure
why that is. Do you know
the real implications
of how one should vote?
Is it true that it doesn’t
matter anymore?
I thought I had
all things considered,
but you know how
to prove me wrong.
M. N. O’Brien received his B.A. from Roanoke College, where his work was published in On Concept’s Edge and received the Charles C. Wise Poetry Award. His work was most recently published in SOFTBLOW and Counterexample Poetics. He currently lives in Lexington, Kentucky, constantly risking absurdity in a Ferlinghetti sentiment, playing old folk vinyl records and studying astrophysics and poetry. He feels awkward writing in the third person.
