irishjayne

I’m always thinking of last year, yesterday, crooked sentimentality 
For something I never bothered to appreciate at the time, or, 

Something you didn’t. When time kept gaping like a jaw

who carries the little bottles?
fills them with sand and glass,
corks them tenderly, risking
cuts or bruises for tourist-
shop pleasure and free wifi?

I learned last week
that all my life what I've called

you’re just complaining I 
love complaining I love to complain but
also to be quiet 

you’re doing all these things because you can
I’m not doing anything because I can I’m pressing a hole in the wall. I’m 

outside churches with slush
or in tights & the sunshine—
boston, chicago

new york, montreal
paris, and dublin.
i like them dirty & hopeful,

near liquor stores
& goodwills—
they are

pulled up hair

I was brave enough to leave
the windows open last hunting 
season, although the bullets have
a tendency to scare my heart from her post,
even though hunting season 
is a maze of gunshots.

Freshmen held hands,
I shared a bag of popcorn with my sister,
and the subway riders gripped poles—
what do you call kissing with a mask on?
In January I read about pandemics in the car,
but it was snowing then.