We packed the car the same
But this time you were more. The
Bags stuffed haphazardly into the trunk
And underfoot. I took your sweater off
Since it was hot and stuffy in the car
And anyway your have your stuffy
Under arm. And were greeted by
Thousands of tiny bezels; you
Melted into the angles of my elbows
And dropped Elmo between the seats.
I’ll pack the car again. Like this time,
But I don’t know what I’ll need then.
Not yet. The trick is, I’ll tell you, the
Things you don’t remember to pack
Are the things you don’t need. But
That’s a lie. I’ll try to keep the sappier
Ones fewer and further between.
I try to keep the sleep you get the same.
But that’s not how the universe alots.
I don’t know how it might affect you then,
But I’ll read bones, and I’ll connect the dots



For Better or Verse — Poetry Month 2023 et al.

Philip J. Repko, Ian C. Repko, and Philip E. Repko have been fiddling with words for more than a few years. Here we shall periodically contribute.