Wednesday, February 22, 2017


Sunshine died in January,

the first time i lost something
i was supposed to protect.
the first time this bible of recovery 
and i sat with my broken religion, 
and tried to make sense of the pieces 
like sea glass that used to fit together, i swear, used to hold 
she deserved more than it, deserved to be shrouded in daisies not
cigarette cellophane in penn station or grand central or whatever attic
america stores her unneeded things.

the xerox memorial flyer is cheap,
bisected by toner lines and faint. her face turned
contrast against white, i suppose that should hold a metaphor. 
the public library lets you use the copier for free,
i suppose that should also hold a metaphor. 
it is so easy to forget,
this is a person, this is a person, 
there is no Sunshine in January.

winter is allowed to be very long and difficult, 
winter things grow best when it is cold.

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