Something Approximate
Aaron Wiegert
About the Author:
Aaron Wiegert is an ultra marathoner and father from Des Moines, Iowa. He won 2nd place for the Lucille Morgan Wilson Award in the 2025 Lyrical Iowa Poetry Contest. His poems have appeared in Slipstream, The Tulane Review, The South Carolina Review, the museum of americana, and Poetry Salzburg Review
Something Approximate
An egg from another reality hatches into me,
And I find her in the bakery.
Her boyfriend lingering at the counter
While she works.
Men in lab coats approach as we walk the alley
But a hit of dopamine can never balance the ledger.
She took me to a rundown rental, empty soil.
No furniture, no food, no soul.
Like a spider on my leg, nerves are approximate.
My hand was in her panties without a single memory.
In silence, an absence, what a strange gem I polish,
A newly honed hostage held in a leap towards oblivion.
This isn’t your house, I say, remember the white siding
And green trim, but she ignores everything,
Including my morning alarm.