The Umbrageous Wood, along withUntitled 0.1, won first prize in the 2004 Mary Barnard Academy of American Poets Contest.
The Umbrageous Wood.
You said that all you’d had in you
was pleasure –
But you were the one to take off your shoes.
You loosed your laces diligently,
Socks, shoes – and you placed them neatly.
Then, me, sweaty, plenty taken, used, and –
now moving with, on top of you:
“I’m good,” you groaned, “Tired, I –
"Should have stayed at home.
"Alone.”
Trolling, 45 MPH through –
the umbrageous wood, and
You counted deer. “Forty-eight,
that's fifty.” Yes, you said,
bothered, but don't you worry about it, just drive
to miss the bastard deer like you do,
and I'll take care of the counting between us: Yes,
(“things bother, so one works through –
Jesus! Don’t talk to me like that”)
Together we’re A Good Team.
(Talk to you like what? I’m sorry. But – )
Together we mightn’t be, not
Like this, with you, your socks, your shoes
that pleasure,
This, it's bothering you?
Oh - but you can blame me:
"I thought you'd like it."
Yeah, that's what you thought, and
"Bothered," it's what you said.