by Alexis Romano
Here we are—
here I am!—waiting
for summer, whatever that is.
Life haunts me, Mother, I say
and she says, no, Alexis, my child,
it’s spring. I don’t learn.
I am here,
shadowing life, hunting life
because I hate it.
Life, let me go.
I am broken like a toothpick.
I am rotting like an apple core.
What a fool I am, but I am yours!
God, I am yours!
Nighttime.
This is not a nightmare, I say
to spring
for 1995 is the year of me
and 2014 is the year of me
and I know this. Fact.
Here am I: a broken and rotting fool
waiting
for summer
and I would, and I would learn,
but if Mother says it isn’t there, it is there…
*Inspired by “Dominique” by The Singing Nuns
Il ne parle que du Bon Dieu.
He talks only of the Good Lord.
