Before I Meet My Love, I Met My Love

By ARAN DONOVAN 


wait for me. you have perhaps
been out there and married unsuccessfully
to several ladies. you’ve been maybe
like a feudal lord a little
gluttonous with your helpings, have gulped
up overly life’s rations of love and suffering.
ah well. they are delicious.
I come a little late to the whole shebang,
having wasted substantial time
watching grasshoppers
and reading old books. have acquired,
by way of dowry, an excellent recipe for
roasted chicken, some knowledge,
some philosophy, and a few tricks
(non-rhetorical) of the tongue.
we’ll see about that later. I too
am a little tired. a little wind-bit.
but if hope is a thing, it’s coiled
like a kiterope in my stomach pit.
are you waiting for me? let’s
get on with it

 

[Purchase Issue 15 here.]

Aran Donovan lives in New Orleans. Her poetry has recently appeared in Hobart, Juked, and Barnstorm Journal and is forthcoming in Permafrost. She tweets sporadically @barelymarigny. 

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Before I Meet My Love, I Met My Love

Related Posts

Cover of Dear Mothership

August Poetry Feature

ELLEN HINSEY
Never forget: the Tyrant time reached others before you—they too weathered the deluge of its tempest-strewn path. For Tyranny always imagines it will write history. But, time and again, it is Justice that will arise, then bow down to write—the history of Tyranny’s demise, instead.

Headshot and Issue 31 cover

Podcast: Lauren Delapenha on “Supermarketing”

LAUREN DELAPENHA
Lauren Delapenha speaks to Emily Everett about her poems “Supermarketing” and “If You Are Learning English,” which appear in The Common’s spring issue. Lauren also discusses her process, her time at the Disquiet Literary Program in Lisbon, and balancing both teaching and writing.

July 2026 Poetry Feature

AMIYA MORETTA
Magnolia tree in the window, hammock, / a loop in hours, a cradle of light we swing inside, / naming what we’re afraid of. / In this version, he is from halfway around the world. / Some net caught the curve of us in the dark, / gathered what it could, his hand, my pulse.