Maybe Memories: Two Poems by Christopher Edelen

“Offices” and “Steadfast at the Kitchen Table”




I don’t remember where we were,

but I knew it was your office.

Crowded, messy.

Maybe a supply room.


And I’d found a puzzle

I wanted to take home.

It had rain in diagonals over

kids in rain coats, under

umbrellas and boots, in

a tree house, impossibly high

in a lush complexity.


I do remember when rain

would bead on the windshield at night and I’d

squint my eyes and tilt my head

To make the lights dance from

the back seat.


And I know quiet,

waking up on wet mornings

stirring silence into the pitiless sun.

My nose dripping,

but I can finally breathe.





“Steadfast at the Kitchen Table”


With hands like dead leaves he forgets.

Sitting with his back to floral wallpaper:

mouth open, shirt stained.

Against correspondence and

chalk memos and hanging keys.


His faces shift pools of wine and bile

A lifetime swimming in

Carcinogen paper push.

Swimming of

fighting to

tame a disease he adopted in a work of faith.


His words come slowly if at all

We’re never sure if he’ll be able to stand up and

he forgets his shirttails are

sticking out of his open fly



How much is undiagnosed

Or is it just that we won’t say

There is simply no reason to live this long

Christopher Edelen was born in Boston, MA. He writes fiction and poetry, and writes for the web series “Pretty Dudes”. Christopher currently lives in Los Angeles with his dog. Most recently his work has been featured in the “Twisted” Anthology from Medusa’s Laugh Press, Harper Palate, and is forthcoming in The Helix Magazine. Follow him on twitter at @EdelenAuthor.


Poems curated by FORTH poetry editors.

Would you like to share your thoughts?

Your email address will not be published.

© 2014 forth magazine