1426: Eighteen | Rebecca Foust
"Eighteen"
Rebecca Foust
Maybe I don't have to whisk
the ice smooth ahead of your
curling stone, explain
how you don't always mean
what you say, nor say what
you mean; tell why you don't cry
even though you feel pain,
explain your indifference
to rain. Or sun. How when
you get wet, sometimes
you burn. You're learning
to manage on your own,
how to keep track of taking
your meds, where and when
to get more, how much
and whether you took them
today. You're beginning
to take time from screen time
to eat, brush your teeth
and shave your luxurious beard,
you remember to set your
alarm. Charge your phone
in case your friends call.
Your friends. Your friends call.
On this day in...
2011: Weekend, no poem
2010: "Mourning Doves" by Wendy Burk and "Waiting for Marianne" by Leonard Cohen
2009: "In Your Version of Heaven I Am Younger" by Rachel Zucker
2008: "The Colonel" by Carolyn Forché
I never knew a friend who did not leave me/the richer for the knowing, pour them on/- I wait for the friends I’ve yet to meet who crowd/like seasons, apt, amenable, beyond/the familiar ambiguity of the hill.
Rebecca Foust
Maybe I don't have to whisk
the ice smooth ahead of your
curling stone, explain
how you don't always mean
what you say, nor say what
you mean; tell why you don't cry
even though you feel pain,
explain your indifference
to rain. Or sun. How when
you get wet, sometimes
you burn. You're learning
to manage on your own,
how to keep track of taking
your meds, where and when
to get more, how much
and whether you took them
today. You're beginning
to take time from screen time
to eat, brush your teeth
and shave your luxurious beard,
you remember to set your
alarm. Charge your phone
in case your friends call.
Your friends. Your friends call.
On this day in...
2011: Weekend, no poem
2010: "Mourning Doves" by Wendy Burk and "Waiting for Marianne" by Leonard Cohen
2009: "In Your Version of Heaven I Am Younger" by Rachel Zucker
2008: "The Colonel" by Carolyn Forché
I never knew a friend who did not leave me/the richer for the knowing, pour them on/- I wait for the friends I’ve yet to meet who crowd/like seasons, apt, amenable, beyond/the familiar ambiguity of the hill.