Poetry by Susan Kolon

      George Bremer CC




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What to do while your mug of tea reheats 

Watch the mug you stole from Waffle House spin to nowhere on the turntable. Picture the red leather bracelet with the buckle clasp you lost in a cruise ship elevator on a Wednesday. That was the day—the mat said so. Estimate the time to empty the dishwasher as same it takes for the tea. Don’t. Being enough hides a multitude of sins. See your hands tremble as you recite by denomination every dollar bill in your wallet. Prefer the mug hold iced coffee or crema di caffe served to you once in Sicily. Scratch the insect bite on the inside of your thigh, below the birth mark Adam calls your Pink Cadillac. Reconcile the ‘talks too much’ remark by Mrs. Sulich in Grade 7 to why you weren’t voted co-captain of the swim team. Commit to locker room talk next time you’re at O’Brien’s so you can finally use, hold my beer. Look up recipe for crema di caffe. Count the headlines you scan (six) before clicking on ‘1,000 ways for a party to die.’ Do a one-legged stand: focus on the dwindling seconds above Popcorn Potato Pizza. Is the bite from Adam? Wish when angry you would say, suck me where I bleed. Every kid is born wanting to play Freeze Tag and Marco Polo, to look in the mirror and say, I like you, I really like you. Squint at your reflection as the glass panel beeps, You’re it.




Susan Kolon is a wellness coach in her day job, and also whenever someone ‘has a health question.’ She holds an M.S. from Northwestern University and a B.A. from Michigan State University. Based in Chicago, you can find her work with Corporeal Lit Mag, Dulcet Literary Magazine, Gnashing Teeth Publishing and Orange Juice, a poetry journal. 
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