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

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

16, 17, 18

No boxes to check for that 
limbo I lived in last year 
and still do. You remind me 
that I’ve paid and keep paying. 
The cost of trying to live 
between is now quantified. 
It’s too steep. Onward, old love.


I give up hope like a fleet
of ships launched into choppy
waters, white bellies leading
toward the torn edge of the world.
I didn’t know letting go 
would feel so much like war nor 
I such a strange general.

Is it Mars or just my luck
that morning delays are mere 
harbingers of evening waits?
So late we got to catch the 
sunset on Newark Bay as
the Day Dreamer glided out 
below, cutting a pink wake.

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