Poem: Theory of Mind American

by austin beaton

I want to write you a letter. Email me three words at austinrbeaton@gmail.com or sign up on my home page and I will.

This is a poem from I Love You, Rite Aid!, a chapbook available to purchase in August.

Theory of Mind American

I want strangers to wonder about me

thoughts beautiful like a crafty

WiFi password like a Lily petal

frisbeed into the canyon of text message

pollution. One confession is we never

confessed. Melting pot can mean

same parking lot two grocery stores

different tax brackets but still the cinema

of summer coming. We’re rarely closer

to our bonobo humanity

than when talking about our allergies.

Joy waits to be grabbed in a desk chair

splayed on its side on the street

(like a chandelier) waiting for its newest

foster family. May ignorance towards

apathy morph into a Slip’ ‘N’ Slide.

Make empathy into story how every night

even a devil closes his eyes, lays

seven hours on back, his nose

saluting the underside of cedar roofing

stained by a man afraid of the dark.