What I Believe In

I believe in dark chocolate and salt on the lip
of a Margarita glass. I believe in daylight
savings time, dressing babies in bright colors,
and cremation. Writing comes before cleaning.
White paint needs a little cream. Never
stick a fork in a plugged-in toaster.
I don't believe anyone nailed anywhere
will rise. I believe in the underside.
I believe in everlasting soul but not in
talking about it, in being quick
to start and slow to finish. I believe in
the rhythm and off-rhyme of the ordinary.
I would never name a dog Prince. I would never get
a sex-change operation. I would never put nuts
or raisins in carrot cake. Don't live inland
without a river. Don't forget your roots.
What I believe in is simple
architecture, thrust and arch, the bitter-
sweet smell of sex. I don't believe love is
a two-way street but a median strip
with traffic. I believe in being kind.
Remember what you can and make up the rest.


Poems by Melody Lacina:

Looking for Comet Hyakutake
On Seeing a Nude Self-Portrait of Imogen Cunningham

On the Telephone
What My Friend Says When She Gives Me a Persimmon

Coming Down Mount Etna
The Rock Above Cefalu
What I Believe In
Talking To God
After I Die

TIMES TEN: An Anthology of Northern California Poets