Kathleen McGookey untitled I've spent most of my life just wanting things. Now I've gone over the list and can't find anything I like. I am clumsy and not proud of it. Natually, I always have a problem. I am embarrassed to say I no longer know his phone number, not a casual acquaintance but a dear friend. Call me "dear friend" again. No pausing, now, and especially no genuflecting. The story never matches the expectations: here's how my mind works: problem, solution, next problem. My cousin's parents expect her to act grown up because she's so tall but she's only six; I'm not tall and look what people expect of me. At some point I need to stop asking for money and admire the yellow mums outside the door. And what does the field say, the field of wildflowers nodding their heads? I don't know because I can't translate. Kathleen McGookey's book of poems is Whatever Shines. Some poems from her book are on her web site: www.kathleenmcgookey.com. Her poems have appeared in journals including Cimarron Review, Epoch, Field, The Journal, The Prose Poem: An International Journal, Quarterly West, and Seneca Review.