Occasional Poem

Vincent Colistro


Michelle exists, Japan exists, dogs exist
therefore I’ll never commit suicide, 

therefore all the mutt-dun lamps leading
east into town, casting doubt on the pleats

of my new pants, freeze as we saunter
past. What terrifying eyes in the window

of the fudge shop they blue. Surely sushi
glistens in Borneo, as sure as I am sheep

bah’d for Stalin once or twice, when in his
quaint Georgia town they ate of brassicas.

I try my schtick for Michelle, the one where
I’m a vampire cosplaying a Midwestern boy

but the boy betrays my own indignance
I feel being me. Let me get born a lover

of the outdoors, hey, if only for a while.
I shake a weighty willow for its 5 dollar bill

and the bill falls, in Fall, and buys us bus fare.
I can take us where our friend flew off the handle

one night and declared her life a mulligan,
adored a world un-her and unaware

she herself lost a good one that day.
I wouldn’t for all the plum flowers in Chinatown

do it, not for the night bus to the end
of the night, not for the fuss I cause you

on occasion. It was here, I was so bashful
holding the world in your breast I turned

the radio full blast. As if all experience could
coincide to make us less and more alive.