Andrea Giugni
I wish you warblers
I wish you the width
of a green mountain. Wish you
guanabana. I wish you a blunt
cut. Wish you a loose jaw.
I wish you guilt, instead of shame
for once. Wish you trees rolling
into the wind. I wish you the shrieks
of backyard children at noon, ducking
out of hedges. Wish you sickless.
Wish you sick with worry. Wish
you tide pools. Wish you underwater,
then sharply exposed to the sun. Wish you bad
at math. Wish you cheesecake.
I wish you never having met a man.
I wish you never having met a man like that.
Wish you your body. Wish you a power line
to perch on. I wish you appetite. Wish you fog,
lifting. Wish you another city. Another
country. Another mountain. Wish you zinnias
on the table. Wish you dogwood.
Wish you seeing it all with
me, my head on your cold shoulder.