amanda field | words

My Cousin's Wedding

Bridesmaids twirled to a tank of music

while groomsmen fingered rifles in the garage.

The newlyweds were off somewhere

and there was only this lingering with the potato salad,

this getting born in the dark.

Morning arrived in the chemise of dawn,

breaking and entering on the beige carpet.

Next door the box-springs wouldn't stop clattering.


POOL (Vol. V, 2006)