by Jane Joritz-Nakagawa
I ask my student:
Is today a long day
or a wrong day?
She answers correctly.
Because every day is a wrong day,
the sky is full of them
my house is a mess and might burn
down tomorrow or I’ll get evicted
and live under a blue sheet near
the train station. You never
know, the train might be late due to
a suicide on the tracks and the tracks
on your arm will stay there forever.
Just moments ago somebody
whispered in your ear “goodbye
forever!” It was the voice of your
ex-husband who is suing you for
emotional distress. When the money
runs out you’ll die under a tree
in the forest if you’re lucky
if there are any left, the deer
mercilessly eat them, no wolves to
control the deer. If only we
could bring back the wolves,
restart the engine, go back in
time, you are young and innocent
before strange diseases killed and
disfigured you before life’s
obstacles only got
bigger like items in your rear view
mirror, before every move you make
seems wrong and your breathing
becomes labored and your teeth
yellow, before the color of the sky
was tainted and your students knew
the difference between “long” and
“wrong”