by Tyler Letkeman
Sometimes I forget for a few seconds
And think of where I’ll take you for supper
Some minutes I lean against the window
And hope that anyone, anything will pass by
Some hours I lay on the couch
And somehow end up in the dark
Some days I can’t shake the feeling
That I’m throwing good rabbits after bad
And I can’t remember if that’s even a thing
Some weeks I cut up snack apples
And then cut apples for snacks
Some fortnights I don’t even have the energy
To think of a joke about the game
Some months I forget the days
And the weeks all blend together
Some seasons I obsess over the season
And why our snow won’t melt
Some years, I’m told,
Have only been a month
Tyler Letkeman is a husband, father, brother, son, teacher, learner, reader, nerd, artist, scientist, poet, traveller, vacummer, shy guy, and general-life-enjoy-er. He is the creator, editor, and web-master of four lines, a poetry and art magazine that aims to get to the heart of things as simply as possible, and has recently self-published his first collection of poems, Gaia’s New Clothes. Sabiyha Prince is an anthropologist, artist, and author based in Washington, DC. Her books and essays explore urban change and African American culture, and her paintings and photo collages grapple with memory, identity, kinship and inequality.
Global Poemic 