Melanie Browne

Segue to Hemingway

We kissed behind
the theatre
where you
took tickets
such a long
time ago
Me in a pink
you, poor,
and proud
to get
the discounts
Your parents
from house
to house
like it was
the most normal
thing in the
Your mom,
a good one
to you and
your brothers,
read those
fantasy books
which I mocked
inside my head,
a literary snob
at the age of 17
I thought I was
special because
I read Hemingway,
a man who would
have burned
those books to
roast some pheasants
with a dry martini

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