Showing posts with label Desire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Desire. Show all posts

Friday, May 3, 2024


It had us like fever,

humid and dark

in the back of that bar.


You, in that linen.

Me, in that dress.


Laughing at our waiter

with his dancing mustache

when he teased us


leaving half-drunk bottles

on the table

for something more intoxicating.


We were our own revolution.

A blaze of flower in my hair,

your melt-me smile,


our favorite salsa record,


volume just right.



© 2024 Jennifer Wagner



For Shay’s WGWL


Sunday, April 28, 2024

Our Old Town


Our old town

lies at the bottom of a lake

like Arenal and Tronadora

in Lake Arenal.


New ones have sprung up

like wildflowers

around it.


But, they’re not the same.


Sure, they have

their beautiful distractions

like scenes from a movie—


views of snakes and jaguars

stretching themselves

near waterfalls,


a peacock shimmy-shaking

on the grass,

little pastel houses

clinging to cliffs.


But this isn’t what I want.

Never was.

Even back before we had money.


You know I’d live on love.


I’d sell it all and move

to Nicoya on the cheap

to feel that way again.


When I set the table for dinner,

and select a juicy tomato for the salad,

asking you what you imagine

chupacabra looks like,

I’m not just musing at random.


What I’m really saying is—

I’ve forgotten the mystery of you,

the wild smell of you up close,

and what it did to me.


I can’t even think of it now.

And so, I scuttle about

getting stuck

in the drying cement

of our resentments,


drowning for what

the fish only know now,

dancing around

our old town.



© 2024 Jennifer Wagner



Shay’s Word Garden Word List


NPM Day 28

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Hunting Season

The leaves in silent fire
are mellowing,
a cool, crisp blaze
before the frost—
the last cracKle, pOp
before Old Man Winter
grays us with his beard.

We watch
as orange and white
petals of autumn suns
l           i           n          g                      e                                  r
like paper lanterns,
and then
the current
rolls them on—

I snuggle in
close beside you,
sip roasted dandelion tea
dripped with honey in the cup,
and on my tongue—

hoping you
track the scent
and catch me


© 2014 Jennifer Wagner