USA

ewalter1@tulane.edu

untitled

1.
when I think of New Orleans,
I’ll think of December and Dill
and how tomorrow was never
what we thought it would be

2.
one great river
or another
has been my only unification
with boys and gods

my problem has always been
thinking
too much or
too hard
or not enough

and I drink my thoughts with alcohol
always wishing I were on the banks
of the Ohio
or the mighty Mississippi
with Jack or Dill
or anyone beside(s) myself

3.
I don’t know why,
but I never thought that Louisiana
would have pelicans in the winter.

today we watched them, though.
looking for thoughts to eat like fish—
hovering and swooping, but never finding
any that satisfied them

school mascots and real birds,
thoughts and fish,
they don’t matter at all.
enlightened ideas and knowledge
mean nothing in nature.

4.
benches are random.

they are spread out everywhere,
but not as much as people.
5.
we talk through the cold.

hard conversations aren’t the same
in comfort.
we both realize and press
on until we wish we could freeze.

cigarettes leave hot imprints on the dark
and the wishes we had for how things would be
are so far from our respective grasps
that we have to burn each other
to make our points.

6.
we always try to feign happiness—
on the way back at least

so we sing Christmas songs,
but they come out sounding so sad
in the emptiness that
we’re always running away from
and trying to burn our way out of.

© Copyright, Erin Walter.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.