The Autobiography of Leigh Chadwick, Pt. 5

Spoons are my second favorite utensil. If you climb a fence, you will be at the top of a fence. The same goes for trees and boulders and the guy named Steve who tends at the bar next to the better bar in Des Moines. The calendar on my iPhone says it’s either the end of the world or the first Tuesday in May. It is more likely that you will get shot in the face than fall in love. I’m not sure that’s true but science is taking a nap and the sink in the kitchen is clogged. I miss David Berman, but I miss Elliott Smith more. I can’t remember where I was when I heard Pavement for the first time. It doesn’t matter. I always turn the sound up when we kiss. I never forget my daughter but I’m always losing my keys, so I attach my keys to my daughter. I build a time machine and go back to 1836 and push Samuel Colt off a cliff. When I get back, I eat a bowl of banana pudding. I go online and adopt an elephant. It costs twelve dollars a month.

Leigh Chadwick’s poetry and prose has appeared or is forthcoming in Salamander, Milk Candy Review, Olney Magazine, Schuylkill Valley Journal, and Bear Creek Gazette, among others. Her debut poetry collection, Wound Channels, will be published by ELJ Editions in February of 2022. Find her on Twitter at @LeighChadwick5.

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