So as I walk through the tunnel my shadow keeps
passing me. I’m haunted
by the bicycle ride we never took to the bar we
never stopped at that nonetheless
I drive by and every time I think, grudgingly, of
you. In this case you
means my stupidity. My desperation. I often don’t
quite believe I can afford to be in the world.
It’s the end of the semester and my shadow keeps
passing me. And this town
which used to belong to my now ex husband and his
mother now belongs
to no one. Grades are as useless as BMI. I worry
about both. I’m not sure if or where
there is room. The bakery is remarkably good and
the woman I’m meeting
to sell me her skis gives me a hug. Later, we say
“whee” and mean it, or
we mean “eggshells.” We walk. Everything
smells wrong.
smells wrong.
