Poem Drafted After Meditating for Ten Minutes
I wrote this poem in 2023. An earlier draft of it was published in 2024 in issue three of The End. I’ve made one edit to it since then, deleting the last line.
Poem Drafted After Meditating for Ten Minutes
The next world has the answers to my questions.
Life is an interim period. I could heal an insane Dad
better than anyone. I used to be six years old.
I’ve been working on poetry about death and time.
Andrew Basiago says time-travel was “reduced
to practice" in 1970. I saw crystal domes on the moon
in a book. It’s June and I’m healing my myopia
with a technique called “print pushing.” Mom said
Dad might go insane. I’m crying. I’m turning 40 in July.
I’m glad I called Mom earlier tonight. Dad’s healing
journey might not begin until he dies. He’s 75.
15,000 years ago, sea levels were 300 feet lower.
My parents are going to the next world. I was once six.
I’ve been researching time, death, and the afterlife.
My cats don’t know I used to be as small as them.
Mom turned 70 in January. I’m turning over in bed.
My healing journey prevents me from going insane.
Dad used to say life begins at 70. He used to be six.
"he used to be six"
Wonderful!