Today I found pen scribbling all over
the kitchen wall
around the switch plate
Like the footsteps she left all
over my heart
​In erratic love for something

​© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

I wince when flying hands come
toward my face
I was hit too many times to
suppress the instinct
I can still remember those times
He'd attempt to break my glasses every time

I recoil when arms come flailing
toward my body
I want to dodge any further
blows and scratches
They left red marks, scars and bruises
I can still remember those times
He'd attempt to rip my face open

I push away when bodies come
tumbling into me
I have fallen enough now to be
caught off guard
I can still remember those times
He had no self-control and would take me down

© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

My first heart was broken so many times
I couldn't bear to identify it
And when I returned to do a teaching observation at my old high school
Choir-man remembered me as
the girl who was always crying

My first heart questioned "why me?"
I no longer do
I've chosen what to care about and it's no longer over why

Philosophy asks why
Philosophers ask why not
I simply ask how
And when I really want or need it when I ask
Determines if

My new heart asks how

© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

Minor, Major, Diminished
Three together
Or four, plus 6
Bang Bang Bang
Slapping it out on those ivories
One, two, C7+13
Why would anyone use a thirteen?
Can't we just use a six?
Gently cascading
Falling like droplets off the gutter
Splotching with a slap
Bang Bang Bang
Roman numeral four augmented
Forbidden devil's music
Or Westside Story, thanks Bernstein
Get them out perfect fifth
Or fourth plus 6
M-i-n  or  m-i  or  m
Or M
Or no M
Third inversion add two
Like a Steely Dan chord
Mr. Turnbull would stop us and
yell "yeah" as he nodded his
head, eyes gleaming
Major-minor seventh
Qualify that group

​© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.