For Whoever Broke In To My Car


I recently read a really cool poem published in West Branch, No. 76, Fall 2014. This publication features poems, essays and shorts authored by students from Bucknell University. I simply had to share it with my followers.

For whoever broke in to my car
and stole my backpack last night,
thank you, sir or madam, for giving
me another excuse to talk
about disappearing, to express
my gratitude again for leaves,
how fitting it is, only November
and already they’re all gone
from my favorite tree,
the maple down the block
communicating something about
decline, about what’s lost, like
the manilla folder of poems which
you must have been disappointed
to find, sifting through my bag,
sitting in your getaway car,
but those words were all I have
is a stupid thing to say, I have
had much more taken from me,
which believe it or not I’d forgotten
briefly inside the budget theater
watching a movie about two girls
who are stolen, go missing for days
and turn up alive.

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