By Robin Lee Jordan
Diffidence is the honk of the saddest goose ever noticed and I don’t like geese but I’m considering looking for this one; he sounds lost.
Today five of my students’ heads bobbed nearly in unison. I was sweaty; my hair was frizzy. I am under-qualified. I am an idiot. A man kept readying himself to leap from the building facing us, running towards the roof’s edge then backing up then running towards the edge again.
The goose wants to get between the small legs of a V that won’t open for him. It will hail in a minute.
I considered writing on the chalkboard Either-or Fallacy: He’ll either jump from the building or he’ll stop running towards the edge. But then I realized the man on the roof was not a man; he was the shadowy tip of a very tall tree caught in the wind.
A little boy shrugs when the hail comes, says he thinks it’s best we go; we are the only ones left. He climbs into his yellow nest. Anyway, hail doesn’t ever land in anyone’s hand.
I remember I dreamt I swam in the ocean last night: birdless waves, black rocks, fog, people popping like fleas off a fishing boat’s nose. Maybe it wasn’t fog. It was a storm; there was a storm rolling in.
Either way, I can’t remember now if I saved anyone.
ROBIN LEE JORDAN will co-host “Not Just A Poetry Reading 2015,” a (B)uffalo (A)rt (D)ispensary community arts project involving local poets, artists and musicians presenting poetry in unique ways, at 8 p.m. Friday at Just Buffalo Literary Center, 468 Washington St. (second floor) in conjunction with the Buffalo Infringement Festival. Performances will include audience interaction, music/sound, projections, theatrics and visual arts presentations. Attendees will be encouraged to create mini-art throughout the event for the (B)uffalo (A)rt (D)ispensary’s (B)(A)(D) Art Dispenser. Jordan’s lyric prose and poetry have been published in various journals, including alice blue review, H_NGM_N, Puerto del Sol, and Paper Darts. She received her master’s degree in poetry from Oregon State University, and is the Writing Center coordinator at Just Buffalo Writing Center. This poem comes from her manuscript, “Things I don’t remember,” a collection of lyric micro-memoirs.