Transmutation
Last night I drank a bottle of High Life and I wasn't feeling it.
I'm still not feeling it while I cycle through cop shows and consider
how the only good cop is Andy Sipowicz, who is never feeling it,
who hasn't touched a drop since that one night after the birthday party,
and I'm not into the way an evening unspools before I can unhinge my jaw
and slump towards not being into tomorrow's yard work.
Tonight is cool and loud and since I'm not altogether feeling it I sling
the window open and tomahawk the beer bottle at our pine tree, but
it does not break, only bounces among an ambivalence of crickets.
In the morning I sweat behind the push mower and I'm not feeling the good vibes,
not feeling groovy, tracking circles around the pine tree, searching for the bottle I tossed,
not feeling the way the glass has turned into a thistle, the thistle into a thirst.
John Leo's writing has appeared in Tinderbox Poetry, Entropy, FIVE:2:ONE,and elsewhere. He is the author of two chapbooks: The Long Weekend is Over (CWP Collective Press) and Gulag Picture Radio (Ghost City Press). He is a co-founder of the reading series Poets Attack. He has an MFA from Butler University.
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