Raising children is boring.
Sublimely so.
I walk in the door and my mind
erases.
Things go well, then don't.
But then, increasingly.
There is never not a narrative.
Discovering new ways to die
is always upsetting.
Little is lonelier
than being married. Except not.
Whatever. Whoever
you are.
Amputations all around.
©
' books are, You're Going to Miss Me When You're Bored, and A Million in Prizes. His latest chapbook is We Used to Have Parties. He is a co-founder of Birds, LLC, an independent poetry press, and lives in Queens, NY with his wife and their twin son and daughter.
We’ve published three more poems by Marks: “from They're There,” “I never know what it is I'm taking part in,” and “Sometimes I like my own poems a little too much.”
