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Chasing Helicopters on the Way Home from a Bowl of Spaghetti

By Robin Gow

Someone I love is turning into an asterisk
and so I am running and the vultures are
as hungry as they’ve ever been. The size of genders.
The size of fatherhoods.

We grew up inside a big man’s mouth.
He liked to eat pork chops from the crock pot.

They installed a helicopter pad
in my hometown because so many people
were becoming birds. Birds on the way
to work. Birds in the gym.

Everyone would gather in the graveyard
and say, “If only the ambulance had been faster.”

There was a house in the middle of town
where you could always get spaghetti
if you needed it. The mailbox opened and asked,
“Are you still a child?”
I lied. I said, “Yes” and reached my hand inside.

We never knew where the helicopter
took our sick. I used to think they went
to the hospital but the vultures told me
“There is no such thing as hospitals.”

We are not getting better. We are getting on.
We are getting used to the smell of tomato sauce.
We are as hungry as anyone has ever been.

The helicopter is landing and asking,
“What is your emergency?”
I tell them, “I am afraid.”


 

 

 

Listen as Robin Gow reads Chasing Helicopters on the Way Home from a Bowl of Spaghetti .
Added: Thursday, June 20, 2024  /  Used with permission.
Robin Gow
Photo by Rain Black (fae/he).

Robin Gow (it/fae/he & él y elle) is a poet and witch from rural Pennsylvania. It is the author of several poetry, Middle Grade, and Young Adult books. It works as a community educator on topics of LGBTQIA2+ and disability justice.

Image Description: Robin Gow is a white nonbinary person with a shaved head. Fae wears a black dress and large black-rimmed glasses. It smiles and looks toward the camera. In the background is a window with a blurred view of a green space.

Other poems by this author

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