Tag: poem
Directions
subways plunder into the stations
I’m hanging on to my phone
directions to here, there, everywhere
I assure you I am not lost
far from it
this alone makes it feel a little lonely
and yet filled with company
chats with Chris are long and fulfilling
see you at Main St, we are headed the same way
returning the same way
so no goodbyes are said
a stranger no more
you don’t have an accent
but I do, its an American one i think
Are you sure you didn’t go to International School?
I laughed internally, so deeply
for I cannot answer their questions, for I
myself am puzzled, even back at home they say
the same, however i am glad i amused you
I’m glad.
The Host
Like the Statue of Liberty, the library called,
“Give me your tired, give me your weary”
A lighthouse, it gleamed in the distance.
It was a sanctuary,
Their sanctuary,
Home to chairs that were
Uncomfortable but they had stopped minding
Various Tupperware containers being opened
Different cuisines fusing into one,
At the same time.
It was a good fusion.
Studying, they tried, eventually, the subjects would
Merge into one, math and english and science,
And so many others, the majors were endless,
At this point, though, they were one and all the same.
They tried to force themselves awake,
Taking breaks, they
Watched the football on the television,
But they had watched a hundred games like this one,
And it had yet to become different.
Besides, their mind had entered a dream-like state,
Half-asleep, they ate their dinner.
It was impersonal, cooked by someone they didn’t know,
Not to say it wasn’t good,
Because it was,
But they missed home, a little bit.
Eventually, they couldn’t resist the pull of gravity,
They laid their heads on their books
And their eyes begin to flutter
Still, they tried to keep awake, realizing that they had been tricked
The library was courteous, a gentleman,
It tiptoed around them
Cast sparkling shadows from the sunset
Onto their faces,
And lulled them to sleep.
Rainbow Road
the rain comes on suddenly,
too sudden.
they are unprepared, their hoods from their hoodies
are all they have, their
umbrellas are forgotten at home, they are
unfamiliar with michigan weather,
where the saying goes
“if you don’t like the weather,
wait ten minutes.”
they realize this soon but
not soon enough.
the water that the drain rejected has seeped
into their converse, their nike air force ones, their checkered vans,
cleaning the once-white soles but
leaving them damp,
uncomfortable.
their solution for this is coffee
like it is for many of their problems,
cold, iced tea, contrasting with the weather,
whisked in their hands, flurrying away.
the sidewalks get their dose of cleaning, from
shoes that walk miles upon it every day,
the leaves lose their crunch, and instead
shine brightly on the pavement,
like walking on rainbow road
from mario kart.
a topic of conversation,
rain is.
all day long,
coats are thrown off, umbrellas shaken at doorsteps,
they say “it’s pouring out there!”
and they have this same conversation every time it rains,
their shoes always get wet,
they always get coffee,
they always walk on rainbow road,
they go through this every time it rains,
and yet their love for it
never wavers.
