He never expected this,
never imagined such a precise failure.
He wanted to describe it as unanticipated,
like the rain suddenly falling
through a fine ocean mist
that shattered the placid countenance
into minute eruptions of foam
transforming the sea
into voluminous purple waves
that startled seagulls
standing by the shoreline.
He chose to concoct inane explanations
about what went wrong,
to extract sympathy from those
who listened and watched,
like the angry young groom
left stranded at the alter,
embarrassed and screeching away
in his car, devoid of safety and logic.
It never occurred to him
that it could be so mundane,
typically hopeless yet predictable,
as tedious as a hangnail,
duller than motivational television
on a hot summer afternoon.
In no way could he have envisioned this
inside his home where he sits alone
at the kitchen table
gripping cold morning coffee
in his pajamas at 4 p.m.
Keshigian is the author of six poetry chapbooks, including Jazz
Face, recently published Big Table Publishing Company. His
writing has appeared in numerous national and international
journals as well as many online publications. He has been the
feature poet in The Aurorean, Pegasus Review, Boston Literary
Magazine, Chantarelle’s Notebook and Reader’s Choice in the
Fairfield Review. He is a multiple Pushcart Prize and Best Of
The Net nominee.