A poem a day in April from Rutgers English PhD students and friends.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Anniversary Party

Last year, I fretted about fools
and fooling, girlfriends in Gethsemane,
the years of trust unspooling.
I thought: those moon-blanched throats
bleeding such odors. Thought paper wafers,
silver dollars. Pancake houses
cold in the floodlights after a dance.
This year, will I take a chance
on. I can’t tell you. Spilling milk
or syrup. Sneaking out to smoke.
This is the garden, girls. Gasoline
fumes climb like vines.
What blossoms in these mirrors:
your face, my face, her face, her face,
and rainbows, man!
Mais oui, filles. Cultivez.
I’m scared of that two-faced embrace--
sure! Sure we all are, but the day’s
got twenty minutes left in it
and it’s been Maundy nothing.
Nothing’s sacred, literally.
Open the door! Umbrellaless!
Clutch Judas Sergeant Zombo to your heart
and say o say Prismatic Spray.
My car waits, kind of growling in the rain.


  1. Last year I wrote this, I mean: http://runapowrimo.blogspot.com/2010/04/o-maundy.html

  2. I am kind of terrified of the garden yet I also want to go to there.