Poem of the Month

Because I’ll die

I’ll die and someday this will all be gone
This spot
My clients
This class
Rachel Ephraim
Josh’s apartment
Scott, Scott’s cat
All of Rochester
Mike and his house in the suburbs
All those feelings I thought were so real

I could just keep caring
Caring about everything
About every word
Said or imagined
About every thoughts or feeling
Weighed against me
About every idea here or there that cannot be understood
I can make it matter so much
And yet

I will die

And even Nick will be gone
And these young handsome men
With tattoos on their backs
Who are walking by
And the people who take themselves seriously
Or don’t
And the beauty
In so many faces
The beauty they don’t know

The need to be right
Or recriminate
The need to feel my family
Should have been there
Or the universe should have provided
A safer net
Or that I was wrong
Or right
At any turn
To just feel like the silence isn’t enough

To feel wrong
Or right
Is just
Nothing

Because is it over
Already
Already it
Never happened
Already
There is no person to be mad at
There is no person to receive
The anger

There is no recrimination
There is no wrong or right
In what I did or did not do
In what they did or did not do

It was all just form
Taking its turn
Around the dance floor

And I’ll die
So it’s okay

And I’ll die, Josh,
So it’s okay you didn’t love me

And I’ll die, Rachel
So it’s okay you will go away

And I’ll die, Amber
So it’s okay that you don’t like me

And I’ll die, Betsy
So it’s okay

And I’ll die, Victor
So it’s already okay

And I’ll die, Mom,
So thank you for giving me life

And I’ll die, Dad,
So thank you for supporting this child’s body

And I’ll die, Rochester,
Hometown, with all your welcome and unwelcome
Your kindness and tiredness

And I’ll die, and so will you, and it will one day be as
If neither had been here at all

None of these grilled cheese sandwiches
None of these gray-haired women who love their food so much

And the youth and beauty of the Latin women and their text books
And the sun of the June day in this double-numbered year
And if people think I am crazy
And if people think I am lazy
And if people will not respect me
And if the person that is Nina Alvarez will not respect herself
And if the money continues to dwindle
And if it goes out like a candle
And if the nerves in her cheeks were sallow

And if the look in her eyes was haunted
And if she hadn’t the tools to fix their griefs
And if she hadn’t the tools to save a heart
And if she hadn’t the tools to make the world move

And if she felt or was small
And if she had little or was poor
and if she showed up in this strange world with all sorts of weird feelings
that made her tingle but had little resonance
if she did not reconcile while she was here
the things in her head to the things of the earth
if she did not reconcile
the things in her head to the things of the earth
and even if she did
reconcile
the things of her heart to some things

even if she did

it is okay