Ode to Joy

I felt a spark between us
But it was very dry
And so immediately doused it
By the sprinkler that makes grass
Green in the desert elevation
The wily contestant who rubs sticks
Clockwise, then counterclockwise
Then laughs bitterly
And cocks her head at the sun
Its variable spot
Which can be removed like X
To deign a distinct value
On one side of the equation
Like a freckle on the face
Please like me
It chirps, having submerged its foot in mud
Ever the elder daughter
A rarity these days, still water
That serves no purpose
Then squelches it out
Irritating the racecar driver
Whose neck has begun to hurt
Even after all that resistance training
Tugging on his skull
With a band that measures its weight
And being drunk on champagne
A week later, in Amsterdam
He broke his nose
In the grooves
Of sky across Heavenly
Valley. But I am unqualified
Not a teacher in Bavaria
And so do not hold
The magic trick a
Young prodigy (such as yourself)
Related in the garden
Prompted by her future aunt
In one of the several preludes
To Sofia’s Big Day
But I don’t remember it
After a long day
I would like to be fashionable
Winged eyeliner by the fact
That I ate a good meal
Alongside my fictive brothers
Who propagate around the table
At the Gallery
A very legendary
Eating spot. Soft chairs, stay as long as you like

Patty Nash 's first book of poems, Walden Pond, was published with Thirdhand Books in 2024. Recent poems have appeared in the Paris Review, the Washington Square Review, and elsewhere. She lives in Berlin. Website: patty-nash.com.