Zeugma by Jason Coombs

Side A

I was contemplating ink,

watching it run out of my fountain

pen gushed: “str_ng_,”

a little gray mouse cloud scuttled

the sill of the window and disappeared

into the door frame - you knocked:

“Th t’s n t the w rst p rt f the st ry,”

will it be said again? you broke up -

or they broke up,

it broke, or

we broke up; the inky tears

imbued my pillow, and you.

that zeugma splashed water on my face before

anyone could see (the truth) or confirm the suspected,

or a suspicion would affirm

they speculate, already

know or just knew - just choose

to accept strange, (we assume we)

recognize ch_ng_,

even when it is (not) missing ink.

Side B

The gray mouse cloud rained

a's and o’s to e's our transition

from str_ng_ and change

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Jason Coombs is a poet spending his non-reading, studying and writing poetry time helping his wife build her chocolate business. His poem "Calor Humano" was selected for the University of the Arts London Mother Tongue anthology. Jason lives in Toronto, ON. with his wife, Mary, and their chocolate lab, Sophia.