Poem 36 Revised

Exams will be postponed due to weather

 

Or not we can peel ourselves from our sheets

Begin the day as budding adults—unlikely.

Instead, we watched the flakes suicide

Against the warm winter windows, we expected snow

But got instead a metaphor, god I hate literature,

Read it again slowly, don’t skip over the dialects.

 

If a professor holds an exam and none of us

Show up did it really happen—yes—my kid id meant well

But I haven’t cracked a spine in days,

These textbooks are the letters I never wrote to my mother

Those letters are the calls I let forward to recording.

Those recordings are still in the mailbox.

If I don’t hear them—

Yes, they’re still real.

 

I’ll remember this as the part of my life I regret

The least. I won’t remember this at all since

It’s Thursday of exam week and I haven’t slept

On my back for nightss. If I smash my nose into the crease

Of every novel it’s almost like I was reading . I wasn’t…

Planning on sleeping with you last night,

But since it was bound to happen, read me that chapter

Again, in case there isn’t enough snow to call off our finals.

—ECW

 

Poem 36 Original Poem 36 Editing

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