Two Poems by Lance Larsen

Two Poems: Lance Larsen Interior Weather —After Wisława Szymborska I prefer to sip but like keeping company with those who chug. I prefer the day before Christmas, the day after Halloween. I prefer extra lungs when I’m blowing out candles. I prefer the angel with a badly chipped wing. I prefer a clear exit strategy. I prefer hearing a barn owl to seeing a barn owl. I prefer Chagall’s peasants, who rise on fugitive kisses. I prefer dashes and stars in the margin, maybe hints of a grocery list. I prefer grottos licked by light. I prefer toy guns, the kind that shoot water or light cigars, especially on balconies perfumed by the sea. I prefer discombobulated and skittywampus. Also Oy! I prefer rope swings on stage and water dripping. I prefer taking the mulligan, whether I need it or not. I prefer shopkeepers who ignore me. I prefer decorating trees with mantises and small skulls. I prefer hopping around in collections, cricket style, so I never know what I’ve come to the end of. I prefer passwords with a dead pet buried in the middle. I prefer shaggy run-ons and chancy, giddyap skips of syntax. I prefer freshly-squeezed lime. I prefer Rats live on no evil star over Able was I ere I saw Elba. I prefer hang-dog, backsliding prophets like Jonah.