POETRY
Raining Choices
Carolina or Marcia?
Oliver’s eyes welled as he gazed
out of his obscured bedroom window.
The lights were off, but he wasn’t in bed yet.
Marcia, his girlfriend, was running through his thoughts
and plans for future plans.
The rain came down in torrents,
and the wind howled like a banshee.
A gloom hovered with thunder
that shook the windows.
Cars drove down the street with headlights
and brake checks to keep drivers off their butts.
And the lightning lit up the room
like a flashbulb.
Drops continued to slap his window,
rolling down the windowpane.
Oliver reached to slide a how-to book
back onto the oak bookshelf.
But how to please Marcia wasn’t on the shelf.
He moved to the pine desk,
opened the stiff drawers one after the last,
shifted through bills and dusted off a Bible.
Oliver pulled out an office chair
and sat at the pine desk,
looking for answers.
He flipped through the pages
but didn’t know where to start,
so he returned it to the drawer.
Oliver blew out his lips.
He drummed his fingers along the desk’s edge.
The cream walls had pictures of family and friends,
a desk with a computer,
and a reading desk — more like a thinking desk.
The pine floor cooled his feet on warm summer nights.
Oliver stood up, pushed the chair in, and moved to his bed.
He hugged a maroon fleece blanket.
Oliver turned on the radio and played pop hits.
Marcia wanted a breather, but she didn’t say why.
Marcia never said why.
Their fights were few,
but their disagreements
about living in Yakima,
or moving to Carolina
did a number on their nerves.
Marcia wanted to stay.
Oliver wanted to see the country.
It was Marcia or Carolina.
How could God make a guy
choose between the two?
Oliver crawled to a sitting position
and hugged his knees.
Oliver’s tears matched the downpour
of the rainstorm.
Oliver saw a shadow and then a clank
at his window.
He threw the covers off his body,
stumbled to his feet, and moved to the window.
Marcia stood with her arms looped around her waist.
Marcia lifted her chin to the sky
as the beads streamed her mascara down her cheeks.
Marcia held up a sign.
It read: I’m with you either way.
I had a trip to take.
I had to explore Marcia’s body.
Screw Carolina.
(© 2024 AC.)
