Trey Jordan Harris

NOW THAT WE ARE MARRIED                

I take a white pear blossom and put
it in my mouth. It is a perfect
fit. Inside my mouth it grows and
it grows. My mouth turns
into a pear blossom. Then my face
is a pear blossom. Finally
my whole head is a pear blossom.
I walk around with my
pear-blossom head. I go down
to the house and say
Honey, I'm home.
Honey, I'm a pear-blossom head.
Honey, I'm married.



Plant the flowers eat
them for dinner. Cut
the lawn gather the clippings

eat them all for dinner.
Buy the house own
the house. Look at the
lilacs the hand-shaped

lilacs. Ask if they are supposed
to be shaped like hands
and eat them for dinner.

Turn the ceiling fan on
low slow your breathing
or metabolism. Later we will go
to the fair and everything will
be still.






I started writing these poems when I heard my first childhood crush was getting married. Then my sister got married, and another good friend got married. Then I couldn't stop thinking about it. I might have thought: if I can't be married, I'll do something to marriage that I can't take back, or something.