Sam Milligan
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Well hello

All I want to do is leap and bound and 
click my heels together threeatatime!
I bet I could control the cuter wildlife
if I stepped out into my fresh cut lawn.
Bluebird and cardinals and redbreasts
and puffball rabbits and doe-eyed does
and even white oaks and black walnuts
would swing down and give me high fives
and sing songs about how well I am and lying
in a twin-sized bed curled around your leg
all I can do is think 'Hell yes!' and try to
hold on to the little warm center that sits
in the space between us.

Monument

do not break waves and
blame it on the hard pink coral.
the unripples all come from
the lonely drop of your palm.

the made-stagnant water will
be displeased whatever the cause,
but the most the tide can do
is lap against your skin, so

stand in the tide and admit,
"alright goddamnit it was me"
and let your ankles enjoy
the sleeping giant.

Sunday After Church

My father was
a serious man,
a small-town minister.
I wanted cities.

But when I was a
teenager, he played
Beethoven’s Seventh
Symphony for me

on his aging record
player, which sat
in the living room
of his parsonage.

All my youthful angst -
slamming doors in
the faces of family -
seemed so much less

important than
the sweet and angry
eloquence of an
allegretto.




© 2015 Samuel E. Milligan. All Rights Reserved.