Poem for My Bleaders, May 5, 2010
Fireworks and fertilizer
in Time Square
an SUV where no car should be
smoking a little.
A vendor sees, tells a cop
on a horse.
The other way it might have played
was that the bomb
went off and fifty-seven people
died, millions heart broken.
All of them wished so hard
it hadn’t happened
that the world bent back
like a twig and snapped
to this world,
where it didn’t happen.
Have a cocktail or something.
I’m going to drink champagne.
Fireworks and fertilizer
and a man on a horse.
It's very strange. --Jennifer Michael Hecht
--
Most Cherished Bleaders,
I have again sat down to blog to you and instead wrote you a poem about the day's news. I am going to go outside into this pretty day, but I will talk to you again soon. Go get some sun.
Love,
Jennifer
