MATT MASON, "LINES WRITTEN FOR MY DAUGHTER . . . " (Issue 16)

LINES WRITTEN FOR MY DAUGHTER AFTER IT’S THE GREAT PUMPKIN, CHARLIE BROWN ENDS AND THE NETWORK MAKES A TOO-QUICK LEAP TO THE OPENING SCENE OF THIS WEEK’S EPISODE OF SCANDAL, A SCENE WHICH SHOWS THINGS I DID NOT ANTICIPATE BEING ASKED ABOUT BY MY SIX YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER AFTER, AS I BELIEVE I MENTIONED, WATCHING IT’S THE GREAT PUMPKIN, CHARLIE BROWN

I must admit
it was something I cannot imagine Linus,
when he inevitably grows to maturity, would be engaged in
but would always hold in secret
in his thoughts, burning
at the box he shoved and locked and buried and barricaded them inside;

which Schroeder would someday excel at;
Peppermint Patty would dream about it
until she, at a disappointing office party, finally asks herself:

“Charlie Brown? Really?”

which Lucy would, in college, find a man who plays
guitar and demand and demand and demand

and be disappointed and disappointed and disappointed;
which Pig Pen would make most of his short film career garnering accolades for;
which Charlie Brown would fumble, that
light bulb nose of his bonking comically,
that head of his never proportioning to his body, Hindenberging into her knees; oh,

which Sally,
Sally would enter the convent
not thinking about

and find it all dashed the night before her vows
when visions of Linus wash over her,
leave her aching most of all on her long, dark night of the soul
thinking her emptinesses
were still his
to fill.

They would reconnect
by chance
(sort of)
in a Target,
end up sitting
next to one another
in a pumpkin patch no mystic squash would ever rise from,
wind crackling the stiff grass,
leaves shushing and shaking down the streets,
they bump hands by accident (sort of),
too scared to say
what they really wish for,
unable to voice
what is plainest
on their lips.

ABOUT THE POET

Matt Mason has won a Pushcart Prize and two Nebraska Book Awards. He lives in Omaha with his wife, the poet Sarah McKinstry-Brown, and daughters Sophia and Lucia.

ABOUT SUGAR HOUSE REVIEW

We’ve loved reading the work that we’ve published (clearly), so now we want an opportunity to better hear our contributors. We will feature an audio recording of a poem from one of our seven issues, read by the poet and updated every couple of weeks. This an open invitation to all contributors from any of our issues, we were delighted to print your work, now we’re eager to hear it.