By Amy Simone Piller
We argue over dinner,still my mother watches as I bike down second avenue
wavering stilllike I am fiveon the first cyle.
Once homethe mirror revealswhite hairson my head.I pull them one by one.
I am too youngfor this(Hair dye was too recentlysaved up in change at the drug storeto piss you off).
I do not cry out in [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
He tells me the mountainsare to the North,the bedroom gets Southern light,a real-estate gesture or twoand we are throughthe apartment.
“Well-lit,†I say.
“Actually, southern light is weak,â€he marks.
“Right,†I manageto stifle a giggle(In Brooklyn, North is 125th St.and South, Bay Ridge.)
He mentions something about a river,a damn?
So cavalier I should not beback upin the airI [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
Our brain imaging todayis like Galileo’s view of the moonancient telescopesdetermining what we do.
We drive on throughforests outskirting Renodiscombobulatedno common view finder.
You say, “I just want to knowif he really loves me,â€For hours we’re replayed Each anecdotelike football play reviews.
At some pointthe call must be made
There is only one first step on the moon.
By Amy Simone Piller
My high school boyfriend and I decided on a namefor our child to be.
It seems so naïve nowI cringe to write it down,laugh nervously.
But this was not funny to us then.It was serious.We would get married,and be together, forever.
Like most hackneyed thoughtsit too dissipatedinto other humdrumclichés of college romance. [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
Frankie tells me“Our building is like a church—not just nobody can come in.It’s my job to protect it.I live here 50 years.There was a young couplelike you,but he was not one of us
she brought him from the streetthey fight a lot.
She come downstairs2:30 AM want to ‘use my microwave,’and I let her in,you know she’s [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
I hear kids loiteringthe hallwayI listensomething bubblesabout the back cornerof the schoolyard.
I go to the door,eyes scatter.
I call over Isaiah ask, “Something going on?â€
“Nah, we’re cool.â€
“You stay away from it, you hear?â€
“Yes miss.â€
I go for helpbut everyone has gonehome already.
Down the hall I tell the science teacher.
“Want to know what I really think?†he says.I [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
You start to get madwhen the substitute askswhy their grammar’s so badafter you’ve listened to heryell through the wallsall day.
You start to get madwhen you’re walking homeand in store front reflectionsyou see your own furrowed browflash yourself a smileand it doesn’t go away(meta headachemaintained).
You start to get madwhen after a year and a halfthe Chinese [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
When 12 Harvard researchers work tirelessly for years,gorillas say“Tickle, tickle, giggle, me, man,â€that is not a sentence,no matter how much sense you speak,they see the sign, but not the string.If he could say“Dear researcherwhen you started to tickle me last yearmy depression ended,â€this would be successof sorts.
…..
When they readindependently I pace lookinglike I might [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
She says she started20 years agoto writeagain.I ask if she remembersthe first momentwhen.
Her husband cuts in,he does,recites the lines too,
blushing bellow his beard,
like wintersheets warm.
By Amy Simone Piller
He said, “Can you cry from a headache?
“Definitely,†I replied.
“Can you cry from nothing?â€
“Well, you might think it’s nothing, but deep down, maybe … â€
“Oh,†he said, then looked down.
“Do you cry often?â€I asked
“No,â€he retorted,too fast.
“Oh,â€I said. “So, do you want to work on the vacation packet?
“No, I have a headache†he replied. [...]