Two Poems

POEM BEGINNING WITH A LINE BY JAMES TATE

I was peeling an onion.

A man watched me through the window.

The window was built by my ex-wife.

An onion is round and tastes foul.

I forgot why I was peeling it.

I forgot what “peeling” meant.

I sat on the kitchen floor and cried.

The man’s hand reached through the window

and clutched my heart.

My ex-wife burst through the door.

She shot the hand with a handgun.

I owed her my life.

“Let’s try again,” I said.

“It will never work,” she replied.

She shook her head

and dead leaves drifted

from her hair.

I couldn’t remember

where she kept the rake.

POEM BEGINNING WITH A LINE BY GILLIAN JEROME

You live in me. We’re eating well.

You invite some friends. I take a nap.

You drink in me. You watch cartoons.

The sun is red. The sky is black.

You read in me. I’m glad you read.

I’m glad you like the food I like.

You pace at night. A bus grunts by.

The snow is grey. The trees are bare.

You dream in me. I see your dreams.

I feel it when you wake in me.

You count in me. You count the days.

A finch waits on your windowsill.