Hang a Warhol
by Justin Ganser
A homebody, I go to hang
a Warhol in oil-spilt colors
bought on campus, to decorate
an institutional wall
too close to bed.
My toolbox clasps shut,
forcing down its upper jaw,
the wrong bits rattling loose
in its belly—galling like glass
littering a sidewalk.
Though I’ve the drill, wall
screws, and another afternoon
on my own, I haven’t the cash
for another accessory
to help hide a wall.
And driving miles,
the hardware store dazzles
a homebody going to hang
shit on a wall, finding change
for another drill-bit and
a piecemeal life.
Author’s Comment: while attending grad school in Milwaukee and after purchasing some reprints sold on campus, the refrain of “write what’s closest” inspired me to try a poem of what a person may do when he or she is desperate for fulfillment but too disenchanted by happiness eluding those who want it most.
Bio: Justin Ganser is a graduate of University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and teaches at Catawba Valley Community College as an English Instructor. Originally from Wisconsin and a transplant to Hickory, NC, he has been published in Wisconsin Review and is currently working on confessional and ekphrastic poetry for future submissions.
Wild Goose Poetry Review 