Three Poems in February

Isaac Hollander McCreery, 19-26 February, 2017

Passing Thoughts While Waiting in Line to Use the Restroom

“By trade, I’m a software engineer,”

What do people think of me when I say that?
Bro.
Gentrifier, colonizer.
Privileged, disconnected.
Greedy, a social climber.
A happy, oblivious member of the New Aristocracy.

How is it that I’ve
Come to love a craft
That’s so entwined
In what’s so fucked up
About our world and how people
Dominate each other?

I am a mason, an devout atheist building
Cathedrals for the papacy.
I am a humble shipwright, a pacifist building
Boats for the wars of the world.

Everything Swirls

Everything swirls.
Everything.

My head and my sinuses feel like they’re in
A blender.
My head and my heart feel like they’re
Inside out—
How did I get here?
Always the question—
How did I get here?
My head and the tale I tell myself are
All mixed up, one
Trying to catch the other, but I’m
Not sure which is which.

The March of March

“Your joy is your sorrow unmasked,” said the prophet.
“And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.”

Your August is your February unmasked.
The magic of barbecues and music on the grass, giddy
Dancing and laughter:
What are they but
Freedom from the grey and chill?

And Californians don’t really know
What love looks like.

Because we hold each other closer when
We have nothing but coffee and
Good friends keeping us
From going over the edge.