The following poems are from Molly Ledbetter’s new collection, Air Ball, available now from After Hours Editions.
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“Cabana”
The Kinky Prepster is a member of an exclusive beach
club. Every afternoon, he has lunch at the beach club before
retiring to his cabana to read race car magazines. Cabana
access is like being a member of a “club within the club,” since
there are always more club members than there are cabanas.
This particular cabana could be called prime real estate,
which is to say as far away from the kid’s pool as possible.
None of the other members know of his kinkiness. I thought
about using information obtained while briefly “dating” to
blackmail the cabana away from him. The problem was I
didn’t exactly delight in imagining an empty cabana.
“Cruise”
“Ship time” is the time aboard the ship, and is the only time
that matters when on a cruise. Ship time has nothing to do
with real time. I never came across anyone on Southwest
Airlines who wasn’t either returning from or going to a
cruise. I know this because I talk to people as a distraction
during take off. I met a young pianist on a flight from Fort
Lauderdale to Nashville. I noticed her style, which was why
I sat next to her. She was different, which was why I was
surprised when she told me she’d just taken a job playing
piano at a restaurant on Holland America.
“Bible Milk”
There’s a house in town people call the “hoverboard house”
because the family who lives there bought it with money
received in a lawsuit settlement after their son’s hoverboard
exploded. At Christmas, the expansive, rolling lawn is dotted
with sixteen foot, red and gold ribbon-wrapped topiary
candy canes. The last two years, the canes stayed up well
into February. On winter evenings, when the light is like
the surface of a blueberry, I drive by the hoverboard house
on my way home. As the days pass, I become increasingly
agitated by the unbridled display of Christmas well past
expiration. The only milk on offer at the Turnip Truck in
my neighborhood prints Psalms 119 on the bottle. Thy word
is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. The light is
the light of teaching. The lamp holds the light. In Buddhist
theology, a “cow” is something you never questioned. What
you’re supposed to do is let the cows go.
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From Air Ball, by Molly Ledbetter, courtesy After Hours Editions.
