Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • The American Poetry Review

    TWO POEMS

    Jan 01, 2019 1 minute
    GINA MYERS

    Emma

    Mid-May, 90 degrees. Severethunderstorm watch.Outside of the subway station,teenagers hand out flyersfor a politician. This weekalready long, only Tuesday.Yesterday’s medical testsleft me nauseated &in bed. I missedthe poetry reading.I missed the concert, I missedyoga. A hidden costof illness: the things I spendmoney on but don’t go tobecause I can’t get out of bed.Emma sends me an articleabout the discovery of rocksformed from plastic.I send Emma an articleabout trees having a heartbeat.No one I know knowshow to function right now.Every day at least onenew horror in the news.Emma asks, “What keeps yougoing?” YesterdayPalestinian protesterswere slaughtered in Gaza.Today: business as usual.I have a meeting. I meet Erinfor lunch. I read my emails.I work on the report.I tell Emma: poetry,music & friends. The sky,a minute ago, sunny. Suddenlydark as the storm comes.The truth is, Emma, I don’t knowwhat keeps me goingright now. The wind picks up,howls down the alleybehind my apartment.I hear my neighbor’s footstepsabove me. I wonder if he heard mecry last night when I wasfeeling alone with my illness.My friends tell me I’m notalone, but I still feel this way.I was surprisedby the sudden tearsat the bar on Sunday. Wewere talking about rents in Philly& I didn’t even knowI had begun to cry until my voicecracked. The radioloses its signal to the storm.When friends say they’re sorryfor what I’m going through,I always say, “It’s okay. It will be fine.”I say things I don’t believebut believe I’m supposed to say.The teenagers now runningdown the street, seeking shelter.Thunder & the downpour begins.I was taught to never askfor help. My dad mistaking thisfor strength. It’s okay.It will be fine. The radiohas found its signal again. Dear Emma,it’s okay. It will be fine.The radio: static. Now: silence.

    You’re reading a preview, subscribe to read more.

    More from The American Poetry Review

    The American Poetry Review4 min read
    Smother
    ≈ The smoke never appears in family pictures. The smoke got up this morning and ran a marathon. She came in first inher age group without trying. The smoke’s children are fine, just where they should be on the growthchart. She lets their father cut t
    The American Poetry Review1 min read
    I Carry You
    My kid pats telephone poles, says twee,climbs bricks to skip in moss, & theysurrender to airplane awe but notto pouring rain. Puddle-kicker, theyname all colors green, then yay-yo,shake wet curls no when I wavetoward our apartment a half-blockof croo
    The American Poetry Review1 min read
    Already
    My daughter is eight & alreadyworried she won’t find someone to marryor, more precisely, someone who will want to marry her—already the notion of marriage arrives an exclusionary prize.Though I say It doesn’t work that way she seems unconvincedthat l

    Related Books & Audiobooks