What I Knew Then

The Catlin Gabel School Senior Poetry Writing class final projects.

2022 CGS Senior Poetry Chapbooks

In the bathroom mirror No time in the dark. Only space&nbsp; moving through me endlessly,&nbsp; incessantly, giving little&nbsp; control over where I drift.&nbsp; Drift through me, drift through black water,&nbsp; smoky air, that is the bathroom at night.&nbsp; I see her carved into ice, sketched&nbsp; with graphite and clay.&nbsp; Me, hollow and sallow, sanded&nbsp; smooth around every edge. Away&nbsp; from what seems real, legs carry me back to&nbsp; where I came. And&nbsp; the moment dissolves.

Song for Tucker Child Psychology What I Knew Then In the Bathroom Mirror

Child Psychology With every step, my boots settle further into the mud. A crow bows and shouts above me on a powerline, loud and condescending Twigs bend into the ground as I step forward, and I wish to join them My own breath billows in humid clouds around my face.&nbsp; Life is unfair. Kill yourself or get over it.

What I Knew Then Maple, chestnut, oak. It is beneath those great branches we live,&nbsp; together, permanently in the space of one autumn. I knew then&nbsp; that to be comfortable with just one person&nbsp; is to be safe.&nbsp; Only one guitar can strike&nbsp;notes to rustle the amber&nbsp;leaves and bring me to that&nbsp; far edge of my memory.&nbsp; I well up at that, spillover. when I&nbsp;think of those&nbsp; washed-out moments,&nbsp; forever falling farther and farther away.

Trucks and Teslas beside me splatter gravel onto the pavement as they rush past Nothing shields my ears from the cold air’s harsh indifference. Dead thistles brush across my jeans and grasp at me as I trample them A Gresham-bound city bus hisses as it lowers itself across the street for a passenger Life is unfair. Kill yourself or get over it.

I hear one of those cars to my left spin into my skull, spine, and sternum I feel the cold earth swallowing my sentient corpse as my soul drifts off, finally able to leave every weight behind. My heartbeat slows, then stops. I hear nothing, see nothing, feel nothing. I am gone. Life is unfair. Kill yourself or get over it.

Song for Tucker (After "Song for Autumn" by Mary Oliver) Don’t you expect the paws dream now&nbsp; how comfortable it will be to rest upon the earth instead of&nbsp; Carrying its weight across cold, wet stones? And don’t you think the ears, especially those that droop, are beginning to imagine&nbsp; the sounds that won’t come — none, at all — to echo inside their hollow chambers? And don’t you hear the sigh that murmurs goodbye, the serenity of finally being released from earthly concerns? The bones stiffen, and the tight joints over which the muscle ran so smoothly begin to scrape above the knees. The eyes settle&nbsp; more deeply. And in the evening&nbsp; the whiskered nose shifts a little, longing to be on its way.

dedicated to my pets, who always listen respectfully

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