VerbSap

Three Poems
By Tobi Cogswell

Reckless Abandon
Red Sequined Monkeys
Poste Restante

Reckless Abandon

I know how you feel about chocolate
I know how you feel about milk
talk to me of artichokes and tomatoes and
tell me again why we need to meet.

Think of the questions you must ask
I would be speechless if you
walked into view but in writing
I am brave. I am curious about
your preferences. Let me ask of them.

I want to know why I am drawn to you
I want to know what it is – I am older,
wiser, more cautious more tame
yet I am a moth to the lantern of you.
Willingly I prepare to let you hurt me.

Call this number, leave a message.
Tell me you’re drinking espresso
in bed, tell me how
you’ll fall to sleep with thoughts of
me on your mind tell me anything -
I want to hear your voice, and

make it soon, my patience has gone the
way of a scarf flying from the
top-down convertible of just this once.

Red Sequined Monkeys

Red – the color of Kharmann Ghias and sequined shoes,
anger and Boston Baked Beans.

At the zoo, going to the monkey house
we argue about the colors of car interiors.

The monkeys look upon us as lower forms
and they are right. Their chatter masks

my palpable aura of frustration. I don’t know how to agree,
don’t know how to stand tall you are a bully;

I don’t understand the primate of you. My
winking sequins blind all sense of rhythm and right

while sparkle beats the sunlight from the pavement.

I hold a cup of nectar up, feed on this and let the
sweetness curb your appetite. Be satisfied.

Memories dance around the periphery of my day,
I am wearing red sequined shoes; I’m in my father’s arms

I remember the color of his car interior
and that he loves me.

Poste Restante

I touch your lips
brush your brow you,
wizard of the terrorizing night, say breathe
focus on the pain breathe
it will lessen, be
more manageable.
Relatively.

I note the red inside
your cupboards close my eyes.
Behind my lids the piercing shriek
of glass reflecting sun.
A thousand fireworks explode
I want to run and
shatter the window but
the prism of your face
holds me still.

Make me remember to
forget, I am unsure
and I am frightened.
You are a lover of the dark.
I, on the other hand,
bend toward the light.
I do not know if I
can be persuaded
to stay in the in-between.

Tobi Cogswell lives in Southern California. Her work can be read most recently in Hot Metal Press, Subtle Tea, Other Voices and Eclipse and is forthcoming in Los Angeles Review and Prism Review. She has two chapbooks: “Sanity Among the Wildflowers” and “Hostage Negotiation in Negative-Land.”

Photo "Ruby Shoes" courtesy of Barry Smith, Chicago, Illinois.

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