Bogie, Par, Bogie, Par, Sand Trap Sonnet
If you are caught in a storm and are afraid of lightning hold up a 1 iron. Even God can’t hit a 1 iron. – Lee Trevino
Then there’s the grey bobcat gliding.
A haven of ryegrass.
I remember that.
Next to the clouds we swung under sat Disney.
Then there’s winter which actually performs like summer in Florida.
Then there’s morning’s ghost of breath bouncing around our faces.
Then there’s Jason in his collared shirt
& felony strangulations charges.
In every family lurks gator & crane.
Golf is an expensive hobby.
Crack is an even more hefty habit.
Then there’s the sunset at hole 18.
Its quinacridone reds.
For an hour it looked like the sky was giving birth.
said I wish I hadn’t spent so much $ on street drugs & more on golf lessons
said driving balls at the range is like smoking crack, you can’t hit just one
said she saw our drug dealer in a Chrysler mini van
said she saw the Avon lady smack a kid
said she wore another stripper’s thong
said parking in handicap spaces with perfectly good ankles is not illegal
said slapping “eating animals” stickers on stop signs is perfectly legal
said I have nothing to do under the hot flap of the beach umbrella
said it’s not gauche to wear flip flops to synagogue, Jesus wore them there too
said the moon looks like a big idiot in the sky
said her vagina is a trumpet of color
said a lot of “political” jumbo over the years
said her favorite season is watermelon
said when she recalls her mother she thinks of the horror flick
When a Stanger Calls
said what she enjoyed most about my poem was the sweater I wore while reading it
The Prompt Was to Write A List Poem about Golf, Jesus, & Traffic
I believe in church basements and the grace
of tumbling down a flight of stairs.
I believe in golf and tee times,
in grief and green’s fees.
I believe in reading glasses
and the choke of memory.
I believe traffic is lonely and desperate to get home.
I believe the Kurtz family visits my dreams
every night to “get something off their chest.”
I believe in coughs and coffins.
I believe in God and Taco Bell.
I believe in 1-Star Google Reviews and golf carts.
I believe in the distance a ball travels through the air.
I believe autumn leaves don’t fall; they are pushed.
I believe in Zoyza grass and putting greens,
in PETA & 8 hours of sleep.
I believe anyone can learn to love anyone given the right conditions.
I believe that rain is God coughing.
I believe in Jesus and in people who don’t believe in Jesus.
I believe in the power of the golf swing and ghosts.
I believe in the power of cake frosting.
I believe life is blood to bone to wastebasket.
I believe the world needs an instruction manual.
I believe you can miss someone who is sitting in the same room with you.
Yvonne Amey is a poet from the South. Her poems have appeared in Rattle, Tin House, and elsewhere. She holds an MLFA in poetry from University of Central Florida.