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My friend’s wife has a niece
who is autistic. He doesn’t seem
to believe that I never wish
Jesse was different. He talks
about missing the big things
like proms and graduations.
I joke about the perks, not
worrying about Jesse using
nonprescription drugs, driving
drunk on weekends, paying
for college, pretending to like
the woman he wants to marry.
I tell him I take Jesse as he is
and I know what not to expect,
how every new tiny thing
he does grows in magnitude:
the first time he ran to me, grabbed
my hand when I picked him up
at school, the first morning
he walked into our Brooklyn
bedroom to cuddle between us,
that one time he scavenged
through his cluttered sensations,
strung four words together
and told me clearly ‘Tony
come back August .’ I explain
I am one of the chosen few
that Jesse invites into his world
and it helps me imagine
I am special with unique super
powers. But yes, I am lying
a bit. I’ve always wanted to lift
him on my shoulders, six years
old and singing that he believes
in the promise land at a Springsteen
show, play some one on one
in a schoolyard, keeping it
close and never letting him
win until he beat me on his own.
And yes, this past weekend
in Vermont, I wish he watched
television. We would have sat
and argued when Girardi
benched A-Rod, ate salty snacks
as the Yanks played the Orioles
in the deciding fifth game.
Instead, I sat on a kitchen stool,
listening to the radio broadcast
while Jesse was happy in his room
tearing pages of picture books
into piles of thin paper strips.
~~~~
Copyright 2025 Tony Gloeggler. First published in Columbia Poetry Review
Tony Gloeggler’s books include What Kind of Man (NYQ Books, 2020). He is a life-long resident of NYC where he ran a group home for developmentally disabled folks. His new book, Here On Earth, will be published by NYQ Books January, 2026.
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Thank you for such a beautifully loving poem which arrived where I am on Christmas morning. It has filled me with a sort of soft joy.
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I’ve yet to read a Jesse poem by Tony that I don’t marvel at his expansive love and ability to express it. These are two special people I hold in my heart.
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yes!
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Well, yeah, Tony Gloeggler IS special, with unique powers. Namely, but not only–clearly–writing poems.
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He really is…
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I learned a bunch from this poem. Not only about autism, but also the way to end a love poem without glamming it up in a false epiphany. It’s truth rings a beautiful bell. Holiday Cheers to Jesse and Tony.
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yes, the understated ending really works in this poem.
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I love the way he tells what Jesse does without judgement or sorrow and thus presents Jesse’s way of being so clearly. And I too love turn at “But yes, I am lying/a bit,” which is the poem’s turn and leads into poem’s truth, and thus avoids a faux lift at the end. What craft!
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I agree, Mary. Thank you.
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Mary,
Thanks from a reader, for writing about the craftiness of the poem. I learn from reading comments like this one of yours.
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That’s a BIG heart and a wonderful poem.
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Big heart, clear language.
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I love Tony’s poems about his relationship with Jesse, his sensibility and obvious love of him.
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Oh, yes!
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