Let Him Out

I pay attention to words, and I can say
with zero doubt that Nectar is a wonderful name
for a restaurant. It sounds like churning.
Say it without feeling something sweet
drizzling into you.

A new face fixated with a smile, eyes
caramelizing while I spill over about
the books I’ve read or those I’m trying to write.
I am a brilliant performer, deliver
with deliberance,

                        which is not a word. And I point that out.
                        Another stone in a fortress raised in humor,
                        charm, and seemingly unwavering positivity.
                        But if you were to scale that wall and peek

                        you’d find a vastness, with a well situated
                        right in the middle. Not the type of well
                        teasing you to cast a coin, but the type
                        Buffalo Bill would drop lotion in. Except

As I walk up Madison Avenue, I’m not
thinking about New York City and all the horror
and wonder that takes place here. Instead,
I wore shoes I never wear and they’re digging
into my heels

while I consider holding the hand
of a new person and if I could allow that
kind of breach. Instead I deflect.
OH! Williams-Sonoma! Anecdote anecdote
*Insert laugh here.

                        Meanwhile, back at the creepy well in my brain,
                        I decide to check on my hostage. A little
                        boy with two chipped front teeth, who
                        used to make up stories with his action figures
                        and Hot Wheels,

                        make burnt grilled cheese in the toaster oven,
                        hit his little brother and then feel instantly
                        guilty, and held his mother’s hand when
                        he would find her crying in the walk-in

                        This isn’t how you’re supposed to defend me,
                        he said as he looked through me.

Chris Antzoulis is a published poet and comic book writer with an MFA from Sarah Lawrence College. As a professor of creative writing at Mercy College and a literary agent, he also helps new and established authors find their place in the creative world. From his humble corner in Queens, he hopes only to share with his readers his passion for telling stories. He can be reached at his website (https://www.chrisantzoulis.com), Instagram (@themaninthecave), and Twitter (@CAntzoulis).

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.