Billows were breaking, sea against sand,
long before prime had rung from any bell—
I can either fall or plunder
Or maybe it’s better
To surrender to the fear
Of life and death
And all that surrounds it.
I won’t give up on Angie. Will she ever trust me or talk to me again? I turn around, take out my phone, and call 911. Where’s the humor in this?
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“Start over” after “start over” after “start over,” we trudge back to the beginning of the set. Haley hisses at the sophomores who are scuffing their toes into the dirt. Anything—any small thing—could be the next spark for Dr. Hightower’s wrath.
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Hello music of the stars! Hello
sunburn! I am ready to shed my
inhibitions.
The math of this isn’t diminishment
always
if expansion is imagined———
I stayed that way, fist in mouth, breathing through my nose, my elbow way out in front of me, my crush next to me somehow not noticing, in the dark of the audience, dazzled by the light of the stage, keeping all that strangeness inside, holding the storm of my personality at bay, lost boy, trapped in time and space.
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The target?
Innate, guileless, innocent, and simple
intentions, plans, and creativity