Denouement, et al

Denouement

I have walked between aisles of
processed food, processed names.
Incandescent flames on windows
bounce elsewhere
when it’s two in the morning.
Dive, and never come back!

I have glazed over Lindsay Lohan
and Playboy and Vogue,
an uneventful rack full.
Coupled with
who-knows-how-long-they’ve-been
sweets boasting beneath
a desert cracking counter.

Ale, two dollars.
Dull eyes have tried
to bore impressions in
the hole of the night.
To no avail so I
have made my home
on a concrete stoop.
At least until black has
shifted shades to blue.

Drink, drink of sweet nectar
gushed down, left-right,
pasting sticky garganta.

I have done this for the first time.
Together with absence of reason
we stay still and stroll
back to eleven in the morning.

Lisa and I were told in print and
told in solemnity a dread.
Dread? Oh, God had taken away
the birth and the first walk
and the first words and the first day, away!
Dear, she could not harbor
a single one of our own.

Ah, Lisa, the ale is two dollars.



To Fare

she paced
waited and waited
and prayed
among the still
and chaos
that wreathed
her head
her hair
stuck out and tried
reaching for some
sort of news

her hands were
anarchy
somebody needed
to restrain
when she
became knowledge
itself
tore her whole

her lips
gave
a final
press

her eyes,
well,
saw white
and
years
to come
with none
of
his.



A Valentine’s Too Soon

Father, O Father!
How many times
can a grown man
be lifted, raised
higher than masses
atop another’s shoulders.
Nay, an answer is, nay!

I shudder to hear
what is accepted and not.
When can I go back
two decades time,
with you again?
Do not mind the mockery, for
they are unloved sons.
They turn away from the twist
of a father’s displeasure.
None of which you have
ever given unto I.

Father, O Father!
Trees are bending over
to pick up their leaves.
Downwards, further darkness hesitates.
Have they no audacity?
To brave through sudden draft,
yet we still only shake
hands, robust hands
of businessmen fashioned
by years of authority. Ah,
the severity!

Have you no pride?
Wonder, why do the males
always leave the nest?
Somewhere on a cliff
by the sea, a grown man, a loved son,
is swaying toward
abducted waves
singing
Father, O Father!

Jenny Ahn
Age 15, Grade 11
Spence School
Silver Key

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