I Do Not

(Or: On Being Married to a Struggling Writer During National Poetry Writing Month)

I said to him:

This prompt is hard.

How am I supposed to meditate

“from a position of tranquility,

on an emotion you have felt

powerfully” if

I don’t have emotions.

What?

I don’t feel anything passionately

or wrathfully or weepingly

my needle stays down

my rpms idle

my ride is always smooth.

What are you talking about?

Me. I am talking about me.

I do not have emotions or

an emotional range.

I am always the cucumber,

the placid place,

the tranquil tower,

the still someone.

I do not when others

would bang, crash, slam!

No, you’re just really good at hiding it.

What?

You heard me.

I am Halcyon Hal, Serene Steve,

Mild Mitchell, and Contented Carl!

I breathe peace from each nostril

and burn the world around me

with my still and gentle breath.

You, honey, are many things and one of them is a nut.