The Tunnel of Love

I wanted the world

to stop riding

its bicycle, and

I wanted the world

to deliver one heavy

strawberry, and

when the world

got here, I would

feel validated

by its very presence,

less strange, probably

ready to promise

my life. Together

we would write

a scathing review

of the tunnel of love—

the swans would be ugly,

seemingly microwaved;

a plastic heart would

fall on its side and

wheeze. I kept going

to the tunnel of love

just to laugh

in round, healthy

pink. I miss

my anger.

The world didn’t

stop; nothing warm

flew. What I wrote,

finally, was glowing.

Jen Frantz currently works at a library in Ohio. Her poems have been published in Prelude, Afternoon Visitor, and Sporklet and are forthcoming in Washington Square Review. She will be attending the Iowa Writers' Workshop in the fall.