Read My Lips
—After George H.W. Bush
Looking at the inflated lips
of a billionaire’s wife on my phone,
I eat oatmeal prepared
in a motel’s coffee maker,
from a paper cup with a plastic spoon
saved from the night before.
I am grateful for the lows of my life;
the cancelled flight that landed me
in a room by the airport,
the blast of engines that shake
the windows that look at a weedy lawn;
these give my life texture.
It could be worse. The only thing
you can count on is death and taxes.
Now, just death in the U.S.,
but I miss taxes. That’s why I bought
the sixteen-dollar flight insurance.
I want assurances.
No guarantees that I wouldn’t inject
my lips with toxins if given
a billionaire’s budget. My old life
seems like that now, stuffed with haircuts,
and a clothing allowance.
Oatmeal is affordable, filling.
I loved it even as a kid. Back when Bush
asked us to read his lips. Now,
I watch the billionaire’s wife pucker.
Bet she can’t sip hot drinks comfortably.
I brew a pot of coffee,
start to file a claim for the room, hope
my insurance comes through.
Is this an act of God?
I hold tight to the things I can count on—
the coffee, not strong, but free.
*
Cecelia left her resume on my patio
weighed down
with a stone. Half the size
of a business card,
it invited me to call
for a cleaning estimate.
When I walked past
my neighbors’ homes,
I saw her message
on welcome mats.
Her card said:
12 years of experience.
Same number as me,
different industry.
I left my credentials
at virtual doors,
cold called strangers,
threw rocks at LinkedIn.
If I could hire Cecelia—
would I? But I can’t.
I leave her message in the shade
of a succulent plant.
Over weeks, the paper
curls shut
around the rock.
Cecelia might be in
in a house now
vacuuming to music
that doesn’t suck.
And work’s flown into
my inbox again,
spreadsheets, lists, meetings.
Maybe we’re in the field
of autonomy. Maybe unknown
doors thrill us a little.
Looking for work,
a reminder to unsettle
ourselves.
*
Katie Kemple is the author of Big Man (Chestnut Review Chapbooks, 2025), and Love in the Key of COBRA (winner of the 2025 Iron Horse Literary Review chapbook competition). This year, her work has appeared in Frontier, North American Review (Open Space), and Sixth Finch. More of her work can be found at katiekemplepoetry.com.