We drove 1000 miles to a huge house
in which we were not permitted to sleep.
I thought if she saw the face of love, she
might change her mind. My partner and I slept
in their driveway on an air mattress,
lodged in the bed of our pickup truck.
Should I piss on the lawn? My father-in-law
slipped us a key to use the bathroom.
Their house helper, exiled from the Philippines,
gave us each a towel: for you to keep.
link to video
Danielle Lemay is a scientist and poet. Her poetry has been nominated for Best of the Net in 2021 and has appeared or is forthcoming in Limp Wrist Magazine, New Verse News, California Quarterly, The Blue Mountain Review, ONE ART, and elsewhere. She lives in central California with her wife, two children, and six chickens.
