On Camping
You pull back the rain flap on the tent
and the sky is suddenly lit up: stars
interchangeable with lightning bugs,
crickets and frogs buzzing. My mouth
opens slightly, but I’ve already said
“I’ve never camped,” so often, I can’t
force you to hear it again.
But it’s not true.
My father tried to take me camping, once—
and I am just remembering it now, as
my crooked back carves a slight groove
in the soft dirt. I try to close my eyes, blink
until I’m back at that cabin, pleading
to go home—but the memory is dust.
How did I know that woman—June—
was my father’s girlfriend? What were
their tells? I don’t know. She had a daughter,
though, named Stacey—I remember,
that summer a song played over and over
on the radio, saying, Stacey’s mom
has got it going on, and I cringed every time.
Last time, Dad brought me home. He knew
when I’d had enough. But this time, you smile,
you talk sweetly to our beautiful Grace as the night
engulfs the small tent. You both see shooting
stars, but I stay awake for hours, watching the sky
and waiting for something that won’t happen.
Kleptomania
I keep a box in my closet full
Of tokens to remind me where
I’ve been, who I went with.
Marbles, shards of glass—often
I do not know when I’ve stolen
A piece of the scene until I go
Home, unpack my purse.
As a writer,
You must also know about theft—
Not just the napkin or the glass, but
A conversation overheard,
A glance that seems unnoticed,
And how they all make their way
Into a story. And now, at my
Kitchen table, I am trying
To untangle the details of our last
Night, to reconcile what I felt with
How I feel. As I sift through
The endless receipts and wrappers,
I’m to find shocked I’ve taken nothing.
Katie Darby Mullins is currently finishing her MFA at Spalding University and teaching at the University of Evansville. In addition to editing a recent rock 'n roll crossover edition of the metrical poetry journal Measure, she's been published or has work forthcoming in journals like Harpur Palate, Broad River Review, Big Lucks, The Evansville Review, and she was recently a semifinalist in the Ropewalk Press Fiction Chapbook competition.