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.