“This is like student government,” I tell Yolo. “Getting high off Sharpie fumes making a poster.”
But I’m not making a poster. I’m making my own letters since the plastic ones are gone. I’ve cut white paper into pieces that are approximately the right size, and I’m trying to make the letters look as close to the originals as possible. It’s a huge hassle to color it all in, and I’m running out of time.
I’m making just enough letters to say what I want to say.
93.
once
In English we read a poem.
It was called “Naming of Parts.”
The man who wrote it was a soldier in World War II and he was naming the parts of his gun as he got ready but the natural world never went away
he was naming the parts of his gun but the natural world was not affected
sure
the soldiers dug trenches and ruined earth and blew holes in trees
but it turns out the world kept on going and grew over it
I think that’s what the poem meant anyway
the teacher said something like that.
I could never pay full attention to anything after last summer
so I can’t be totally sure.
But that seems right.
If we died the world could still grow over us
still
after all we’ve done.
94.
now
GET TH3M BACK.
I’ve been saying their names in my mind.
I could list them up on the marquee.
Like I did on that pink Post-it my therapist gave me.
Mom
Dad
Jack
Sydney
