Sunday, September 27, 2020

sunday the student


on the verge of dying for poetry
again, the boring exorcism of hiatus 
looking back at the word bank
all shy

B said some poems just
walk away! 
like children

*

J died 7 years ago, today
a dark autumn night in NY
the hill we climbed 
with the news

*

today is a triangle
with an exclamation point inside

J says
we can't ever do what we want to do
anymore, that's the new secret club

today I go, 
what is a 7 years
a bouquet?

some off lights
reflecting the sun

the triangle with 
the exclamation point
extends,
encrypted

*

last Yom Kippur
I went to services in SF
where I met an old friend 
and her young dad
it was early morning
and the city was
bright gold

later we wrote
what we didn't need
on scraps of paper and
put them in a clear vase of 
tap water

for atonement, 
I brainstorm some pools in the area

*

the blood thing
is really more 
about draining
 
I fainted in the 
process of 
playing cool

they pushed a Kiss 
into my mouth and
squeezed me and
low key 
reprimanded me

the bad quiz on loop 

I can't see my own eyes!
or bite my own teeth