Listening to Elliott Smith with Christofer, My Black Cat
I drink pilseners,
staring blankly at the
four-legged void as
he cleans himself
lately we listen to Figure 8:
stupidity certainly does try. his tail
twitches off-beat, I strum without rhythm;
he has a lovely voice but we can’t harmonize
we rearrange the track titles: everything means nothing
to him whereas everything reminds me of her or him or the
time I drove my Toyota Yaris into a patch of poison parsnip
we take the easy way out– we’ve set up shop on the path
of least resistance and our stomachs sag: wouldn’t Mama be proud?
we are startled too easily–better be quiet now; can’t make a sound.
Alex LeGrys received her bachelor’s degree in sociology from Bard College in 2023. In her spare time, she enjoys strumming mindlessly on the guitar while poorly singing her own lyrics, reading and writing poetry, and listening to Elliott Smith with her black cat, Christofer. Her work has appeared in Apricity Press, Oyez Review, The Whistling Shade, Flora Fiction, Blue Lake Review, and The Queens Review.