"When asked to write a poem for Caitlin's birthday on Tuesday"

By Joshua D. Kalscheur

I will clam up
And wonder how to make the lines
less contrived, and how
to confetti each syllable
without using the words
“love”, “party hats” “happy”.

And I have wanted to put this poem
In Vegas, have her traipsing
The pixilated Bellagio steps.
I’ve wanted my Chuck E. Cheese
wetdream with live bands,
and comped G and T’s
for this birth anniversary,

This poem though,
it’s equatorial in locale,
it’s Pacific,
and the electricity
moves as the tide does,
or sometimes worse.

Whatever we toast to tonight,
it will be with rice,
and we’ll be saying cheese,
but not partaking in it.

This pen,
like everything else here that rolls,
will die soon,
dry up and become
gallery fodder for this impromptu museum of an island.

For Caitlin in Chuuk,
I ask for the placid
lagoon waves
and for a Plumeria
tucked behind her ear.

I ask only for what
the ocean will give.
I do not ask for potholes,
parasites or heat stroke.

But I do ask that you
walk to the highest peak
here and change your mind
about being alone, because
this reef will hold you in,

(and we might too).