Tuesday, September 13, 2022

Tuesday poem #493 : Olive Andrews : love-hate poem

 

 

in my dream last night I said
I am allowed to acknowledge my thought before passing a judgement
I thought “I am petty and I’m being weird”

this felt right and I was warm

most things are different but
in the morning I still pull open the curtain and see light
hunch over the sink pressing bubbles into smaller bubbles

and obsess over dusty rose kitchenware

you can love-hate everything like your job
and the carpet from ikea that’s too dark, and email
just exist in the love-hate not really teetering

more just pressed too tightly to lean one way or the other

you told me gently olive,
I love you but it’s not normal to be this nauseous
or to always think you have appendicitis

I agree and don’t pass judgement on the agreement

 

 

 

Olive Andrews is a poet and student living in Tiohtià:ke/Montréal. Their work has been published in a number of magazines, including PRISM International, Canthius, and ARC Poetry Magazine. Their debut chapbook, rock salt, was published with Baseline Press in 2020. They are currently completing an MA in Creative Writing from Concordia University.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

No comments: