Poetry: IN BOSTON THE DRUNKGIRL FLIRTS WITH ME AND I DO NOT FLIRT BACK JUST TO BORROW HER MOUTH by Linette Reeman
As Reeman’s title suggests, “IN BOSTON” travels the unsorted emotions of modern romance—& reports back ambivalence, saturated bodies, solo cups. The poem weaves tenderness and despair into every couplet, until we end up like the speaker, “suspended” between the two.
IN BOSTON THE DRUNKGIRL FLIRTS WITH ME AND I DO NOT FLIRT BACK JUST TO BORROW HER MOUTH
my heart slipped into her and she said, wow,
that sounds like a lot of shit to get over.
according to god, i would uproot my
hometown for the story of it. according to
my hometown, i’m not easily accessible.
the first time i road-tripped somewhere was
to make you feel real. now i’m in Boston
smelling the solo cups. imagine my body
pickled by the river, pulled up sopping.
here i can try on anyone’s name. here
i am not accused of loving too lost. here
i have a good excuse to keep trying to
be sober. sober just means i don’t want
to love anyone dead-end. dead-end
means i thought the ceiling would collapse,
all the wrong chandeliers succumbing
to gravity, but i’m still here. suspended.
Linette Reeman (they/them) is an agender Aries from the Jersey Shore and the author of BLOODMUCK (The Atlas Review, 2018). They are a multiple Best of the Net, Bettering American Poetry, and Pushcart Prize nominee, and hosted final stage at the 2017 Texas Grand Slam, and among other things, are currently surviving in small-town America. / LINETTEREEMAN.NET