Sestina for a picnic
She threw the red one of the books
The black book he wound up to throw
He felt the red one whoosh by the sleeve of his short-sleeve button-down shirt, bitterly
She ducked but the black book clipped the side of her glasses
You fuck! She yelled
He wasn’t sure if he wished it had hit her square in the forehead
Now the back of his hand to his forehead
How did we get here? he thought, Throwing books?
It started when the deer appeared and he yelled
It wasn’t as if he would throw
a book at a deer but she lowered her glasses
and all of a sudden looked at him bitterly
How bitterly
she looked through him, burning a hole in his face, his forehead
He could see his own pitiful reflection in her glasses
responding to this look. They were just holding the books
and he asked her, Really? That’s the look you’re going to throw?
She responded, Who does that to a deer? You downright yelled
Sure I yelled
He said, bitterly
I wanted to see it run. With the tail. At least I didn’t throw
a book at it and hit it on its forehead.
On its forehead? exasperated, and looking at their books
Yes, he said. The sun glinted in her glasses
And this was not long after they had been in the grass drinking wine from fine glasses
The green and the loftiness of the trees were the only things that yelled
An interruption so magnificent, hindering the reading of books
An interruption they never would have minded bitterly
And he had pressed his forehead
into the ground, the moist earth, overwhelmed. To throw…
He would literally throw
into the blue of the sky the glasses
if he could know that this exquisite landscape could be grafted inside his forehead
always to be remembered. If not at the deer certainly he would have yelled
at the sky, not bitterly
but desperately simply for being so beautiful and exquisite enough to heave eyes away from books
But he had stayed quiet as they were reading their books, sipping from glasses
There was nothing to throw, moist earth on his forehead, sweet loam
And yet now upon exit, bitterly, and not for beauty, they both yelled
She threw the red one of the books
The black book he wound up to throw
He felt the red one whoosh by the sleeve of his short-sleeve button-down shirt, bitterly
She ducked but the black book clipped the side of her glasses
You fuck! She yelled
He wasn’t sure if he wished it had hit her square in the forehead
Now the back of his hand to his forehead
How did we get here? he thought, Throwing books?
It started when the deer appeared and he yelled
It wasn’t as if he would throw
a book at a deer but she lowered her glasses
and all of a sudden looked at him bitterly
How bitterly
she looked through him, burning a hole in his face, his forehead
He could see his own pitiful reflection in her glasses
responding to this look. They were just holding the books
and he asked her, Really? That’s the look you’re going to throw?
She responded, Who does that to a deer? You downright yelled
Sure I yelled
He said, bitterly
I wanted to see it run. With the tail. At least I didn’t throw
a book at it and hit it on its forehead.
On its forehead? exasperated, and looking at their books
Yes, he said. The sun glinted in her glasses
And this was not long after they had been in the grass drinking wine from fine glasses
The green and the loftiness of the trees were the only things that yelled
An interruption so magnificent, hindering the reading of books
An interruption they never would have minded bitterly
And he had pressed his forehead
into the ground, the moist earth, overwhelmed. To throw…
He would literally throw
into the blue of the sky the glasses
if he could know that this exquisite landscape could be grafted inside his forehead
always to be remembered. If not at the deer certainly he would have yelled
at the sky, not bitterly
but desperately simply for being so beautiful and exquisite enough to heave eyes away from books
But he had stayed quiet as they were reading their books, sipping from glasses
There was nothing to throw, moist earth on his forehead, sweet loam
And yet now upon exit, bitterly, and not for beauty, they both yelled