Themes and Learning

So, earlier this week, I went to a poetry reading which is just about as exciting as it gets. Especially because of Jerry Williams. Go get his books from your local library, and try not to pee your pants. But also, I realized that my poetry is incredibly narrative, and not as thematic as it could be. What I've done with this next piece is taken different instances with similar feelings (both in my experience and in the experiences of other people, from my viewpoint) and synthesized it into one piece. Let me know what y'all think!

Interdit

When I was born
I imagine you were reading Salinger;
I imagine it was simultaneous:
your teenage angst, my infant struggle.
Your dreams were made of ideas
intellectual prowess academic progression.
I am your interruption.
I am the idea that chases your fingers
around and around in your hair;
I am the voice that spills your coffee,
forming perfect rings on an essay
left over from before my entrance.
I imagine a lot of things.

Remember when we shared an ipod?
By plugging our ears in,
we wired our brains together,
but you weren't allowed to hold my hand.
You could do it now,
If you could reach across
all of these rivers,
if I could stop
burning all of these bridges.

Every time I kissed you
I tried to narrate it in my head:
How did we lead up to this?
What brought your face so close to mine?
Do we leave imagination any room to wiggle?
This is why you stopped kissing
(me).

This puts all the coffee
back into your cup, and
runs a comb through your hair,
slicked back with river water;
This places brick on top of brick,
not a bridge but a wall:
a solid, tangible obstacle.
I don't bother reaching towards it.
Your fingers will never
graze the rough red surface,
nor wish it were my face.
But I can put my back against it,
and sneer at all those phonies,
fingers interlocking tightly,
and pretend that
I don't believe in love.