Monday, 27 June 2016

A poem by Laurie Kolp

Ordering Room

As we wait for our food
in a booth that’s much too close to me
          and yet I can’t make it move
          past your deadlocked arms
I begin to second guess this lunch date
arranged to ameliorate our relationship.

Your corrosive eyes materialize
                        as     I   p u s h    harder
across the table like a bed tray in my lap
and still you won’t give in.

I say I need some space
as the waiter sets our Caesar salads down.
Another temporary tether release
as you reach for your fork
all I know to do is breathe.

Laurie Kolp, author of Upon the Blue Couch (Winter Goose Publishing) and Hello, It's Your Mother (Finishing Line Press), serves as president of Texas Gulf Coast Writers and treasurer of the local chapter of the Poetry Society of Texas. Laurie’s poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Gargoyle, After the Pause, Crack the Spine, Scissors & Spackle, Pirene’s Fountain, and more. She lives in Southeast Texas with her husband, three children, and two dogs.

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