With the Best of Intentions

By Randy Aittaniemi

The car alarm sounds

and a flock of crows scatter.

The footprints in the snow gave you away.

I miss buying candy cigarettes at the corner store

and pretending to smoke in the winter.

I like pictures with no people and crowded bars.

I’ll nervously buy you a drink

and try to remember

what shape a compliment takes.

If the phone rings you’ll know that it’s me.

I miss seeing who could jump the furthest

off the swing set during recess.

Can I meet you for Chinese food

during your lunch break? We can talk

about what it is you do for a living

and how I miss the smell of brush fires

since I moved to the city.

I traded my cardboard box in

for a four door sedan

but I still pretend it’s a rocket ship

whenever I’m stuck in traffic.

If you keep pacing like that

I’ll get dizzy.

The moonlight hits the walls of

my room, showing only glimpses,

making me reflect upon

singular photographs of my life.

As you wear a circular rut into the rug

I run in place on our treadmill.

We are both staying still in a sense.

I think it is because we are in

a place where we both fit, both belong.

I am glad we found each other

on the other side of tomorrow




Randall Aittaniemi is 23 years old and lives in Sandwich Massachusetts. He graduated from the University of Massachusetts Amherst where his love of poetry sprouted and has previously been published in Carty’s Poetry Journal.

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