11: April 2016 #02 - An education
Authored by Megan Chiusaroli
I got a voicemail from the hurricane
that said we name the things we fear.
The wind telling us its secrets,
I ran into the dawn and
wrote a letter with both hands,
craving a language that used
to fall into place.
I pinned an elephant to your chest
and waited for the leaves the clocks
and the watch on my wrist
to whisper loudly in the distance. Go go go
Whisky and my mother tell me to wait
a little while longer,
like the man fishing on the East River.
New York says embrace the uncertainty
like a companion,
This twist of sadness is an education,
a single dime received as change
and an abstraction,
a wooden door about to open
a crab creeping by
invitations arriving in the mail
filled with feathers,
foreign beauty and strangers.