Mandy Loves John Forever Go Bucks! Driving under the overpass, his hands tighten on the wheel— he can’t remember her. No face or hands, no hair. Just that name next to his. That name— wasn’t it that name? But even that feels wrong now. Who was she, telling the world she would love him forever when he couldn’t see her face? All the way home, it nagged. When had he met her? Where was she, who loved him forever, who painted it brightly for every passing car to see? But when he got home, his daughter only gave him worried looks and medicine— he slept through the night and failed to dream of her.
My notes: This is a really old one originally – it’s actually from my thesis at Simon’s Rock. I always liked it, but the original draft wasn’t clear enough that the title was some graffiti that the driver, an old man, had seen, and that he has probably some sort of dementia; the graffiti doesn’t actually have anything to do with him, but because his name is John, suddenly it feels to him like it’s addressed to him. I’m hoping that comes through now; it shouldn’t take a note at the bottom like this to make a poem clear! But I did revise it this very day, so I’m putting that as the date on the poem, and hopefully the revisions have helped with the clarity a bit.
