(This is an exercise from Fiction Writing last semester. It's stream of consciousness. We did an exercise the 1st day listing what we'd take with us in the boat to survive the big flood. This poem is the counterpoint, what one other person we'd take and of course, who we wouldn't. Remember, its completely streamed and not revised...)
I couldn't take Mom without Dad,
because of the fact that their love story
is the greatest never written.
They wouldn't go without me.
And then I couldn't qualify the 4 or 5
I've lived with and loved the most.
And taking someone unknown
for the sex
or the novelty
or the talent
or the logic
or the absurdity
didn't seem possible.
It seemed ungrateful.
If I couldn't save their love (or mine)
I didn't have the heart to save anything.
And so I threw in Gatsby
and the other objects I cherished
and I stood together with the other unsavables
and watched the boat drift off.
And we waited for the rain.
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