Works in Progress

My wife is consumed with her creation—
stabbing and dragging threads into life.
She’s armed with 
scissors, needles, constricting hoops.
Little scraps of string curl on couch corners
like worms after a long rain.

She has two works in progress.
There’s a chubby-cheeked reindeer
and a mouse with a bonnet and apron.
They’re the sort of animals
that talk to children who believe.
I could use some belief myself.
My keyboard has no magic today.

My wife curses her work and backtracks.
I shake my head at my shabby stanzas.
I get up and grab us
some cocktails from the fridge.
They’re pre-made,
and as long as they’re cold,
they’re impossible to screw up.

JOEL BUSH

Joel Bush reads things. He also writes things. Well, sometimes he reads the things he writes. That tends to help. His work has been featured in The Spotlong Review, Meniscus, and The Muleskinner Journal.