Ben Hyland

Lunch with the Ex

I’d build her a home if

I were a handy man

with a fat credit limit,

two bed, two bath,

Grand Cayman, North Shore,

where we’d work on our tans forever—

string-bikini old folks

dark as the rocks

supporting our shellacked deck.

 

I’d go fish, if I could fish, and bring her

blue tang, snapper, sergeant major,

kiss her callused feet even though

I hate feet,

gag at the sight,

but if she walked another day with me,

I wouldn’t care. I’d find her—

Sand-blown dress, flowers in her hair—

and run: A child first sees the ocean.

 

I’d be honest. If she told me

somewhere on Seven Mile Beach

there were a princess-cut

and she’d lick me all over if I found it,

I wouldn’t just comb,

I’d sift every square inch,

swim out for miles and dive, dive, dive,

come up with nothing, gasping, and be so happy.

 
 

Ben Hyland’s poetry is collected in four chapbooks—most recently, Shelter in Place (Moonstone Press, 2022)—and has been featured in multiple publications, including Beloit Poetry Review, Hawai'i-Pacific Review, and Delta Poetry Review. As a career coach, Ben has helped hundreds of jobseekers find employment, even throughout the pandemic. Readers can connect with him and follow his work at www.benhylandlives.com.