Johnny Becomes You

No one else called you Lester. No one knows
I broke your typewriter—
save you. Who will
call me

Esther now? I see the jumbled
mass of timber holding up the Grain
Belt billboard sign. It doesn’t change
even when the river below breaks
open its mid-sigh

pause after months
of near death
threats. This city moves
to a different cadence

in a dye color you and I
could never find
for that windbreaker
that got left behind. On a wooden stoop
behind a cobbler’s shop.

Everybody’s got to work.
The banging has stopped
for you. For me, I’m left holding
jokes no one else gets—inside out.

2 thoughts on “Johnny Becomes You

  1. Hi Amy,
    I think your poetry is very inspiring. I really enjoy reading it. I must have favourited your page but never looked at the poetry properly but I am impressed. I plan to read more of it. This is great poetry.
    Mary

    Like

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