By Rebecca Lindenberg Rebecca Lindenberg

    not to be in love with you
 I can’t remember what it was like          
           it must’ve been lousy
                             James Schuyler

You take off your black
motorcycle jacket, hang it
on the back of a chair. It’s cold
from our walk along the sea wall.
Your pockets jingle with shells.
While we were gone, you left
the stove on low—some things
you do make me so nervous.
You graze the surface of sauce
simmering in a pan, shiny fingertip
held out for me to lick, you say
“What does it need?” Maybe nothing,
maybe honey to unbitter the lime.
Later that night you’ll bury your face
in my belly and sob. “I’m sorry,”
though I don’t think you are
always talking to me, my love.
But now lobster steam billows
up the window, you gulp
purple wine, your pinky sticking out,
and the round olives are the green
all green things aspire to be.

Rebecca Lindenberg, “Marblehead” from Love, an Index. Copyright © 2012 by Rebecca Lindenberg. Reprinted by permission of McSweeney’s Publishing.

Source: Love, an Index (McSweeney's Publishing, 2012)

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Poet Rebecca Lindenberg

POET’S REGION U.S., Northwestern

Subjects Love, Romantic Love, Activities, Eating & Drinking

Poetic Terms Free Verse

 Rebecca  Lindenberg


  Rebecca Lindenberg is the author of Love, an Index (McSweeney’s, 2012) and The Logan Notebooks (Center for Literary Publishing at Colorado State, 2014), winner of the 2015 Utah Book Award. She’s the recipient of an Amy Lowell Traveling Poetry Fellowship, an NEA Literature Fellowship, a Provincetown Fine Arts Work Center Fellowship, and two Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Poetry Prizes. Her poetry, essays, and translations appear . . .

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SUBJECT Love, Romantic Love, Activities, Eating & Drinking

POET’S REGION U.S., Northwestern

Poetic Terms Free Verse

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Originally appeared in Poetry magazine.

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