October and May by Kathleen Fellows

1.
If October is like an older man,

then May is like a tween.

October had time to mature and dry,

while May is still trying to lose baby teeth

to make way for braces.

October withers like its leaves

and May is fresh like its flowers.

Earlier today, I decided I was sick of watching cars.

I wanted to be the car.

I took my bike and went as fast as any car,

turning through the full trees,

right in the middle of the road,

better than a car could.

The double yellow lines warned me to move over,

that I had gone past the bike lane

but those lines have no business with this day,

the hours all about me and those fresh trees,

rooting me on as I break the road boundaries.

And this, too, will be broken someday,

this guaranteed grief everyone has,

multiple times.

It will finish, even though it looks over everyone,

stronger than ever,

refusing to budge.

Once in a dream, I had the luxury of dying.

I swam until my arms got tired

of scraping the cream colored coral

in the bright, sunny ocean. I never could stop resting.

It was a relief to finally stop swimming

and do my favorite activity forever.

The final breath came out as bubbles

and I sank, able to always sleep.

2.
I never thought life could be disappointing so early.

Children not old enough to understand weddings

are already forced to feel rejection.

No one wants the tallest dancer,

even if people insist they value height.

They still refuse to make clothing for them

and men don’t want a taller girl.

Believe me, what happened next will prove my point.

People were never that tall before.

They just keep growing and growing.

But short people rage on as well.

Before you know it, circus freaks will return,

this time only with giants.

They will be gawked at by all the short people

and someone will have to admit they devalue giants

but we will keep serving the same food.

The worst thing my sister ever said to me was,

“You’re just like a model: tall, skinny, and awkward.”

Though it’s hard to pick the worst thing

that those tiny lips have muttered.

These days, I’m like a sloth,

not just lazy and hunched over,

but unknown and lacking research

with a tangled up body that needs baths

and can barely live in the wild.

I’m constantly falling

and need weird treatments to survive.

What would a sloth do if it had time for fun?

Listen, I learned what life was in biology.

Everything about flowers, looks, shape, smell,

are for maximum chances of reproduction.

No human is different.

Life is about reproducing.

Once in August, I went to a wedding.

It was for my sister and her beefy husband.

He had been violent towards her

but they married each other anyway.

My sister is in her late twenties

and all her friends have newborn babies.

I wish she hadn’t married because of jealousy.

Maybe then the two of them wouldn’t have divorced two months later.

But, it is not October. It is May

and everything is still fresh and unkown.