The Orange Room Review

Accessible poetry of substance


Short Lived

by Jason Fisk


I remember our first breakfast together,
the Saturday morning sunshine
as it peeked in on pajamas,
fresh coffee and the Tribune.
The harmonious waft
of toast and coffee
filling the kitchen.
 
Her voice echoed
from behind the thick white coffee cup,
Sometimes, when you’re sweeping the floor,
do you ever just sweep the dirt into the air register?
Her eyes and brows
smiled at me over the mug.
 
No, do you? I asked.
 
A contrite smile
covered her soft face
as she added cream.
 
I remembered that conversation
as I watched a small cloud of dust
burst into the air
as the heat kicked on
- lazy bitch.



JASON FISK lives in the Chicagoland area with his wife, daughter, and two dogs. He tries to find time to write between changing diapers and cleaning up dog poo. He is currently teaching English to students who would rather read graphic novels than poetry. You can visit his website at www.jasonfisk.com.