Getting Away with It

I need to learn to look at you less, 
to not get caught tongue-tied
in the terrain of your lips.  

What are you doing? you ask,
Watch the road! Oh my God! 
Later, at the bowling alley,

I let myself look. I let myself look 
because it’s my homework, 
my job, to pay attention

to your hands, your shoulders, 
to the back of your head 
until I can barely stand it anymore

and I return to my book, pleased 
to be able to read aloud (nobody 
can hear me under the thunderous rolling).  

Two boys run past to the pro shop,
the shorter one trailing the taller one.  
Brothers, maybe best friends, 

doesn’t matter. I know something today 
I didn’t know before
about your voice, my strength, 

the joyous equation of diet Coke

plus a strike and suddenly I’m overwhelmed 

with something akin to ecstasy. I pretend you’re a stranger and start this all over again.

Marco Anders

Marco Anders (he/him) lives in South Saint Paul, Minnesota, with his husband, two cats, and two chihuahuas. He received his MFA from Hamline University where he briefly served as a poetry editor for Water~Stone Review. Anders was managing editor for Flash Fiction Magazine (2016-2019) and has been previously published in now defunct journals, Versewrights, concīs.