I don’t know what to call the substrate under my dated anecdotes,
dispatches from specific summers, but it is not nostalgia.
It’s this non-bitter not-yearning, the straggling sand
that makes the beach Coke crunchy.
The eye doctor asking which is better, 1 or 2?
and they’re both a picture of someone you loved.
Permanent heel divot from ballet flats,
lip plumper sample at the mall that made me
SEE GOD, soapy dick taste while I looked for my car keys.
This is not nostalgia, this is poking a dead thing with a stick.
It’s a lingering I want to grab by the shoulders, shake vigorously,
and refrigerate after opening, but it might have already turned.
Jenna Jaco is a poet and technical writer from Texas. They are the author of BOY BAND (Bottlecap Press, 2022), and have most recently published poems in In The Mood Magazine and miniskirt magazine. She is still afraid of lip plumper.