(October is so long gone now; the leaves are down in my neighborhood and
it is cold cold cold)
I think I'll apply to Harvard I think I'll keep it a secret
so then when I don't get in I'm not the failure or the punch line
of some long time family joke.
I've always been that dopamine snort but now I sit still still still at e-church sermons
that have long stopped being gone to.
She touches my arm and it tenses. I hope my hair grows by next Christmas,
this year's my free pass--don't touch me,
God, don't touch.
My show got turned down for something called "When Santa Lost His Ho Ho Ho"
and I wish I could say that I'm lying; I'm not.
And I wish I could say I'll put on my show but I probably won't, I won't let them
keep it for January it won't even be Christmas anymore and--
God, I'll keep my letter of thanks and resignation brief brief brief
so I can shove it in my pocket and keep it for when I need it,
brief. So brief, so
deep deep deep, so
I can't help but wonder if God is waiting for me at college. I laugh with my
constant state of fear of the future but maybe She walks the hallowed halls.
Her walls are enthroned in feminist posters and ivy,
and She is just waiting for me to come so we can have tea and talk like old friends.
When you grow up do you want to go to law school?
You always were so smart.
(November) going bad bad bad
Put little candies in my lunch and dress like a skater LIKE HELL.
Learn the Romans loved their structures like they loved their own selves but
what's toppled over is oh my heavenly hosts I'll have to tell Aunt B--
if this is a warning sign I'm an idiot for not taking it.
But we haven't spoken in months, she'll just laugh, call me cute and ever-changing.
I'm the angsty teen niece but it isn't bad--I just wonder how much she still knows,
and she posted her old wedding photos on facebook.
Aunt B made a beautiful bride.
And when a Roman structure toppled the marble was hard but the Romans
The place was not salvaged, but they rebuilt it on the ground
and kept it holy.
I'll be the one who made it out--the compass faces North to the Lord of the sun
She waits for me at college,
She threw the paintbrushes out the window but I didn't even notice.
I was reading again.
(December will shine like the day,
I was promised.)