Three Poems by Annette Rasmussen

One Problem

Mainly I have One Problem but It’s busy.

It gets dressed up and tries to pass itself off as older than It is

so that It ends up drunk & out all night.

I fight with It all the time. Bruised & bleeding

It says It’s sorry

but It lies because It has no truth of Its own

& that is why It is a Problem

& not an Impossibility or a Catastrophe.

If I hold It just right, light will splinter It

into colorful laughter & the Problem smiles &

I believe I can carry It in my pocket like an amulet,

taking It out now & then to spit on It & shine It with the hem of my best

DressForSuccess

but It’s generally gone by then or sitting on my shelf gnawing on the wall or

breaking bricks in my chimney where I can’t see & would never know

but for all the smoke.

Signals & subtleties are lost on me—

I tell It & It agrees, smacking me in the face.

Oh, yeah, mainly I have One Problem

But it is one more than I need.

Wretched Angel

She wore the woes of the world

Like a velvet cloak

Wrapped about her bulging body.

“In the ancient days they ate sin,” she said.

I suppose now they just eat fast food supersized

But the point is

That her coat is

Pretty,

Crushed velvet flocked with the stains of

Tears? Urine? Blood?

The various liquids of humanity.

She would seem an angel

If the stench were not so thick.

Loch Ness

If a sea serpent

Wakes from a deep sleep

And claims it knows not

Its name

Is it not a monster

All the same?

I think

I loved you a little bit

A long time ago.