Marathon

"Marathon"

                                                Petals

on a river, a tree in blossom, one

pink bud—unopened—falls

& is carried downstream & out

to sea. From

above the other petals seem to 

carry it. Closer—

this is our map, these our

footprints, we

grew up drinking this water. At the

start there

was doubt, we lit a torch, no one

believed we would

make it. Closer—

the legs, the heart, the lungs. It's

too soon to say

we were lucky, it's too soon to say

anything

until the cloud is pulled back

from the sky, until the ringing is

pulled back from the bells. Look—

everyone we've ever known

runs without thinking

not away but into the cloud, where we are

waiting

-by Nick Flynn, from My Feelings (2015)

BNSF

Here is another rough thesis poem. It doesn't feel finished, so if you have any insight, please feel welcome to share it with me.

Thank you for reading this, as always.

"BNSF"

She harbors his ardor

at the arboretum

on noisy Wednesday afternoons.

Misty junipers burn along the tree line

parallel to the train rails.

The severe summer sun

sticks to the skin of her

back like cellophane.

They profanely sit

by the railroad tracks

pressing hot pennies

beneath the wind of a boxcar.

By now, he must have lost

at least a dollar

tossed across the rail ties

Antebellum

This is a rough poem from my thesis, which is due in a week.

Crunch time GO—

"Antebellum"

This is a cold and murky 4 x 6

from our retired home, by

a broken AE-1, leftover from the canon

of junk our grandparents

finished using.

This is January-sharp,

the air where playground students

pretend to smoke twigs

while their tunafish mothers sit in cornflower kitchens

with closed windows and filled trashcans

smells that won’t leave

and curled posters of unknown forests.

This is moving forward

to a younger house

that never had slaves

or the pecan trees

These are students, climbing.

Northampton

Weekend views; Northampton, MA

From NOLA

A house, wherein lives a man named Chris.

Naked, If I Want To

Forever forward.

- "Naked, If I Want To" by Moby Grape, from Moby Grape (1967)

Fue Perfecta

How is it possible that, all at once, I want to both roll around in the snow outside and climb deep into my bed for hours?

-"Fue Perfecta" by Amor Elefante, from Amor Elefante (2012)

Two Kinds

The second day back from Spring Break, and I'm already overwhelmed. I know that this is a tired chorus by now, and that I probably just feel this way because I got two hours of sleep last night, but I cannot wait to see what the future brings. While Wellesley has been an enormously challenging and beneficial space for me, I'm ready to begin the next step.

But before I get to that point, I have to take care of a few minor things...

- "Two Kinds" by Cullen Omori, from New Misery (2016)

New Orleans

There are maybe a million and one things to write here, but from the airport all I can think is that this place is unlike anywhere else I've been, and difficult to understand, and absolutely vibrant. I can't wait to come back.

China Lights, City Park