Sophomore Slump

By Leigh Chadwick

"Leigh Chadwick's prose poems are shockingly blunt and compulsively tender. They are dangerous confessions shot out of the cannon of her restless imagination and aimed straight at your heart. Don't blink."

 -Steve Almond, author of All the Secrets of the World

 "Sophomore Slump is a kaleidosc

• Language: English
• Publisher: Malarkey Books
• Release date: May 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088092231

Book preview

STUDIO ALBUM

YOUR FAVORITE POET

For foreplay, I don’t have sex with our marriage counselor. Still, the pineapple in the fridge is ripe, and I came four times this morning. After, I took a nap and dreamed in assembly lines. When I woke up, I was dressed in left turns. Outside, the woods are gaining weight. The trees are starting to look like trees, again. I haven’t checked the mail in weeks, so I go out to the mailbox. It’s filled with frequent flier miles and an RSVP from our neighbor inviting us to come watch him mow his lawn. You’re still getting nosebleeds. You tell me not to worry, but I worry. I think it’s spring, but I never took calculus in high school so it’s impossible to tell. In the guest bedroom, I can hear Sisyphus yawn. You tell me it’d be nice to find some air, so I pour us each a glass of grapes and we go out into the backyard. The sky is dim, like the lowest setting on a lamp. It’s clear enough that you can look up and not get lost in thought bubbles. I point to the brightest thing above us. Do you think that’s the moon or a hangnail? I ask. I’m not sure. I never am. Below the moon or the hangnail, the grass grazes my ankles. It makes me think of antlers, but I don’t know why.

LEAD SINGER OF THE BAND

I am the lead singer of the band. I am not a good lead singer. We are not a good band. My voice is powder. My voice is thirty seconds into a cough drop. My voice faucets. I am the lead singer of the band. I do it for the ass. The bathroom stalls of dicks. The free drinks and unplugged smoke alarms. I am the lead singer of the band who goes on stage and makes balloon animals. Here’s a giraffe. Here’s an elephant that lost its tusks. Just kidding—that shit was sawed off. I am the lead singer of the band. I chain smoke in alleys, pull my skirt up while my bassist presses my back against the green dumpster. I always keep the cigarette lit. I am the lead singer of the band that tours the country in a van, playing gigs to Christmas ornaments and wayward hearts and lost and broken children. I am the lead singer of the band that you have never heard of but have dreamed about, this sound we make: the buzz of an amp, the out-of-tune Fender, the tap tap tap of the hi-hat. I am the lead singer of the band with a tambourine player. His name is Steve. He is allergic to bees. We are all allergic to