My Cardboard Balcony

This poem was actually co-written by me and a classmate of mine as part of an exercise in our content instruction class (we're both striving to be English teachers in the SSU teaching credential program). It is based off an actual apology I've made (repeatedly) to my fiancée and written as a poetic dialogue in a William Carlos Williams style. Enjoy. My Apologies by Belinda Roddie and Krista Robertson A: I just wanted to say, love, I’m sorry for yet again soaking the bathroom mat as I stepped out out of the shower tonight. Not that there’s really too much I can do about that, considering I can’t exactly dry myself off until I’m out of that Blessed Warm Mist. B: Dear, I look at the steam on the mirror and the Slow Cold Puddle on the floor I wonder: Should I mop? A: Shit, it got on the floor? My bad, babe. I’ll be more careful next time. Perhaps we should have a basin I step into every nigh

Sally saw the rocket in the sky and was reminded of the toy she kept in the pocket of her jean jacket. A miniature spaceship, a flying saucer, that buzzed and beeped and flashed when she pressed a button on it. She had had that little trinket ever since she was nine years old, and here she was, twenty-six years later, watching her nephew zipping off into the cosmos, strapped into a seat with his spacesuit on.