3 poems by Lee Patterson



    an essay about weddings & earthquakes & bears oh my!


    I take 2 tylenol with a side of earthquake.

    I am almost dumb enough to dance.


    I keep trying to high-five the moon

    but I am still too small. still too quiet.


    I am wildly inaccurate. the days grow

    shorter as everything hibernates: bears,


    the throat lozenge caught in my throat, more bears.

    I keep waking up expecting to be drowning in salt.


    if you plant a panic attack in the garden, will anxiety

    bloom like the somei yoshino in japan, falling


    to its end only a week later? leigh, I wish we

    had married in the forest, surrounded by deer


    & dirt, meters high of linden. you would’ve worn

    the dress still hanging in the guest closet,


    still wrapped, still & always

    untouched.


    an essay about evolution 


    people are committing crimes in space now & we might begin nuking hurricanes. oh hell,

    well, whatever, some things still stay the same. my mornings are still coffee & cigarettes,

    my afternoons still just mornings with a larger sun. I never not welcome the strange

    adventures between the bedsheets, but the days are growing skyscraper long. I just want to

    pet a dinosaur, netflix-&-chill with my wife, birth bees & bears that eat what bees sell to lip

    balm & mugs of tea. I am rotting gently. quietly disheveled. living is a movie I refuse to buy

    a ticket to. yet & still I sing—still we in the damp cool of dawn, mismatched lips pressing

    against this future history lesson—the minutes before the alarm, still still still. 


    an essay about the hymn caught in my throat


    the tightness in my chest 

    never ceases

    to still love, still 

    to remember 

    the morning & the other

    morning—how night shrinks 

    upwards as if it never felt 

    fallen—

    I am it seems I am 

    the same as you,

    stolen, left 

    for the smallness of night 

    & the temper of the birdsong—

    nothing

    but the intro


    ______________


    Lee Patterson's poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Hobart, Thin Air Magazine, Entropy, Queen Mob's Teahouse, and Unbroken. His chapbook, I get sad, will be published by Ethel Zine in late 2019.