Moonshot #5 | Poetry | E. K. Gordon

E. K. Gordon
If Gay Marriage were Legal I’d be Divorced
Twice, at least, and I’d have a House

Celia, you know I would have gone down on one knee
and given the four chambers of my heart to you
in a setting made of the circle of all my years
and you would have said no and I would have known
sooner. I should have let you give me
the VW, should have given you
the cat. You know my family never asked
What happened to that Celia?
Five years. Did your father ask about that shiksa
who blushed so easily? I still have
the little Yiddish he gave me, still have him.

Diane, I know you loved me. In Colorado,
when we lay on that house of a boulder watching a summer storm
cross the plain like a ship of lightning
you might have asked what could not then in any state
be asked and I would have said no
and you would have known
sooner. Thank you for teaching my brother
to use your camera.
Thank you for sending the pictures
when he died. Thank you for the picture of him
you keep in your mind.

Kaki. Six tiny diamonds from my great aunt Helen’s ring,
three to each silver band to unite us in the holy
river of our state
park campground where the current
knocked us nearly over. A job
the years completed. I call you X,
call you often, call you friend.
Not long ago I had a great blue heron
inked into my back, for a big birthday
I thought, but the blades of grass,
meant to show the heron hunting in a marsh, came out
an X over and through that heron’s heart,

divorce papers from a universe that knows
we were married. I don’t do commitment
very well I guess but maybe if I’d had
the decorated hall, the layered cake, the guts
to ask or be asked, to say no, yes, wait, change . . . .
Oh what does it matter?
Marriage equality comes too late for me.
It’s a summer storm I watch
alone on a boulder, calculating
not distance but the alternate universes
that keep remorse so busy.

E. K. Gordon lives in New York’s Hudson River Valley and teaches writing in the online division of Northampton Community College. Recent work by her has appeared at Salon, Moonshot, Viral Cat Press, and IthacaLit. Her nonfiction narrative Walk with Us: Triplet Boys, Their Teen Parents and Two White Women Who Tagged Along won an Indie Book Award. “Love Cohoes,” her first full collection of poetry, is due out in spring 2014 from CDD Books. As elizag, she regularly dons the persona of a slam poet. Her poetry has “won bouts” at Women of the World Poetry Slam, the International World Poetry Slam, New York City’s Urbana Slam and elsewhere. For more,