Antonyms for “Automotive” by Glen Armstrong
1.
I can still hear
my father’s heavy shoes
at the front door
his murmuring of street names
that lead to restaurants
where he hoped to someday dine.
2.
A large shape remains
where the car was parked.
Snow falls and starts
to melt.
We never quite finish.
We never want
anyone to know
that our parents’ passing was
“automotive”
in the sense that they left
shapes in our lives
and made odd sounds
before leaving us stranded
I can still hear
my father’s heavy shoes
at the front door
his murmuring of street names
that lead to restaurants
where he hoped to someday dine.
2.
A large shape remains
where the car was parked.
Snow falls and starts
to melt.
We never quite finish.
We never want
anyone to know
that our parents’ passing was
“automotive”
in the sense that they left
shapes in our lives
and made odd sounds
before leaving us stranded
Glen Armstrong's Bio:
Glen Armstrong (he/him) holds an MFA in English from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst and edits a poetry journal called Cruel Garters. He has three current books of poems: Invisible Histories, The New Vaudeville, and Midsummer. His work has appeared in Poetry Northwest, Conduit, and The Cream City Review.
Glen Armstrong (he/him) holds an MFA in English from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst and edits a poetry journal called Cruel Garters. He has three current books of poems: Invisible Histories, The New Vaudeville, and Midsummer. His work has appeared in Poetry Northwest, Conduit, and The Cream City Review.
