For my senior honors thesis at Penn, I wrote two poems a day for six months. It was called Selections from 11:37. Basically, every morning and every evening, at exactly 11:37, I stopped whatever I was doing and gave myself fifteen minutes to write a poem. (You can purchase my collection here or click preview to read more about the project.) Only about 70 poems made it into my final thesis, so I have literally hundreds of poems that have never seen the light of day. Here’s one of them.
…is what I usually write. However, it’s my mom’s birthday on Halloween (or perhaps it’s the other way around) and I wanted to post something for her. Here’s a poem that DID make it into my final thesis, written exactly one year ago. Happy birthday, mom.
I NEVER FOUND IT STRANGE (Night 10/31/12)
Halloween is on my mother’s birthday, or perhaps
it’s the other way around. I suppose that’s just one of nature’s
more obscure laws, like how street signs end up in living
rooms after hurricanes or how Bob Dylan sings lonesome
for all the depths of sadness that’s ever existed.
Either way, happy birthday mom.
IT’S MORE OF A COMFORT, REALLY
My mom thinks my poems are too sad sometimes
and I worry that she’ll read those lines about all the depths
of sadness that’s ever existed and imagine
I cried on her birthday. Maybe I should have
sent her a pineapple shaped like a daffodil or chosen
my words more carefully. There’s something about watching
Seinfeld with someone that you love, like the lines
around the box have flipped
framing you and her like a stagnant hearth
burning quietly in the corner.
P.S. Here’s another link to my poetry collection.