The Poem I Wrote Because You Have Call Waiting

by Spencer Marstiller

what I meant to say was
the next time we break up
it shouldn’t be for introducing you to john the musician
or for my inability to provide you with bright orange life jackets
or for a lack of circus tickets

it should be for not making enough lists

and then what I meant to say was
I have a list of things I’m learning to forget

and you’re laughing at the idea of learning to forget
laughing and not hearing the beginning of the list
which is

August to October
the silence of pause
the way we kissed
the time I didn’t spend watching your tongue translate the romantic

and you heard the word tongue
or romantic
and now you’re listening

the fan shadows that covered you naked
that water dissolves sunlight
the way you held me together like a nucleus angel

and now you’re not going to hang up

the phone that could’ve been a whisper
the window that was you sleeping
the hallway that remains you dancing
and the doorway that will always be your lips

and now you’re starting to change your mind

that I loved you once
loved you like a photograph
loved you like the song we played
the one you said hurt too much

and now you’re going to say something
something you forgot

Spencer Marstiller, born in Richmond, Virginia, and educated at St Andrews Presbyterian College is now trying to “make it” as a screenwriter in Los Angeles. His chapbook, Typewriter Umbrellas, is available through St Andrews College Press.

Spencer Marstiller was nominated for Poets Under 30 by Ron Bayes.