Two Poems

Doug Paul Case

This Will Do Just Fine



You know that lemonade you make from powder


I know a guy that would pour it dry into his palm


Then go to his room and lick it and he said


It was kind of like making lemon saliva


He said it made his father really mad


He was like fourteen which yes is too old


Did I just read him I don’t know


How things work really they just do or they don’t


It doesn’t matter how many times I look it up


I’d like to have more lived experiences


I’d like to have fewer déjà vu experiences


Can you have one without the other


I’m not as big of a gossip as I expect me to be


Or other people I’m guessing but again who knows


This isn’t the world’s biggest game of marry fuck kill


This is poetry it’s an opera and we’re singing


Marry the soprano she was born for this part


I don’t ever want to stop clapping


Sometimes I applaud my empty house


Fill everything with the love you make from it




I’ll Say Gin or I Won’t



Bring everything broken to the beach


I don’t remember how to build a fire


I don’t remember wanting to


But who wouldn’t put the glass in their kitchen


Something about sand


Who wouldn’t go for a free remodel


No one’s painted this place since the ’70s


New carpets sure but what about these green cabinets


Nothing stored but lids we can’t find the pots to


Fractured mason jars


Ant corpses


This isn’t a party exactly


So basically we’ve got to start over


How many of us would dive into the waves


How many if we lost track of the shore


How many if we hadn’t any boats


Several times a year my father flies to Alabama


Where they’ve got a navy base


They pay him to go down into the subs


To fix electrical panels that keep the motors running


Sometimes I think about him getting stuck on one


My father is a larger man than subs are built to suit


Then I start having feelings


Often I marvel at anyone willing to risk it


Not just the drowning but the pressure


The ocean’s will to crush everything


If everything gets deep enough


Is a beach house a beach house if


You throw everything out if it into the waves


How can someone stand on the shore and not

 About the Writer
Split Lip Magazine

Doug Paul Case is the author of the chapbooks 

Something to Hide My Face In (Seven Kitchens, 2015) and College Town (Porkbelly Press, 2015). He is the poetry editor of Word Riot, and his poems have recently appeared in Court Green, Washington Square, Juked, and Devil's Lake.