Saturday, December 13, 2008

grind. (poem 3 of the 30/30)

the
Jewish boy checks his answers for the
take home test
kneeling down in the dirty subway
corduroy meshed into the pavement of 42nd st station
heavy backpack pressed into his shoulders
yarmulke atop his head, it is non moving
(i still wonder, how they make them stay up there)
his dedication makes me realize
that there is no reason
my pen and journal
should keep rest in my purse.

-riv-

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