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.