Interpersonal Intimacy
Pursuit on N Humboldt Blvd
The left forelimb extends horizontally.
The forearm points vertically at the clear sky.
Palm faced upwards as if to express . . . ?
Him beside Her in a lethargic, unenthusiastic
gait. Between them, tied to a leash, the brindle-
striped dog. If I was coming from the front,
I could see the look on Her face. Something,
something only They can know in proximity
to one another.
Probably nothing—talk about Their days,
the minor frustrations. Or excitements.
But I want to know! Will never know.
Can’t ever know. That’s enough! . . .
I take a right down Armitage Ave.
The streetlamps turn to amber.
As do a few lights in the apartments.
The backs of a new Couple in front of me.
Montrose Beach
A Child collects shells & drops them
in the pink plastic pail. The Mother watches Her,
applying sunscreen to Her pale shoulders
while the Brother & Father pass,
asking if She would like to play Frisbee.
She says when she’s done, but immediately stops,
drops the pail upright & runs past Me,
kicking up sand as I reach out,
My fingers brushing the artificial grains. A gull
bracing the wind drops something too,
a rock from its yellow beak. Overhead—a plane
to touch down at O’Hare International Airport.
Voyeuristic at The Concrete Beach
They behave in an amorous
manner & it is not sexual.
Moments later, They stand & look
all around the concrete beach, see
me & what We must all be seeing:
the languid lake a blanket
sky cut by clouds with sharp ridges
& legions of Volleyball Players,
Beach goers & Tourists
—a disturbed expression
on Their awakened faces,
I note They are
not common integers
but together,
a unique fraction.
Dom Blanco is a Cuban American writer originally from Miami, FL, now based in Chicago, IL. He holds a BA in Philosophy from DePaul University and an MFA from Randolph College. His poetry has appeared in various publications, including The Brooklyn Review, Rappahannock Review, New Feathers Anthology, Novus Literary Arts Journal, Inverted Syntax, Cathexis Northwest Press, and The Allegory Ridge Anthology. He is the recipient of generous support from the Nancy Craig Blackburn Program.