THREE: Poems / by Christian Patterson


I loaded my laundry into the washer
then went to the darkest corner
of the parking lot and packed my cigarettes

I saw you cross the street
you said can I have a cigarette, I said yes
you said you pack your cigarettes loudly

I placed a cigarette between your lips
I said do you need a light
and I handed you my silver lighter
you lit my cigarette first
I made a tunnel around your hand
with mine, to block out the wind

you said are you walking home
which seemed like a weird question
to someone standing in the darkest corner
of a laundromat parking lot
I said no and you said I’m walking
to my car, I was at my friend’s house

we talk about school and laundry
you say a lot of soft words
and as you walk away
we keep talking, as if something
was dragging us apart through space,
and we didn’t know why


Christian M Patterson is 23 years old. He's from Auburn WA and lives in Portland OR. When he isn't writing poetry, he is watching wrestling. Find him on Twitter and Tumblr.