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goldie negelev

 

 

Does guilt affect sleep

 

                                                           

                                                    Are there studies
                I have insomnia

                                                    this     makes me brave
tonight the moon    
    
                does what she likes    

the sun appears    
                                                & I touch his spine         

it is so ugly  
                                I fall asleep

 

 

 

To miss my train

 

To wait. To yawn. To find a scar on the train station tile. To watch it change into a little monster. To notice a man staring at me. To invent a greeting card for every stranger. Congratulations on your new home.   The weather is nice isn’t it. I feel sticky all over. To alternate between boredom and irritation. To have this seem very natural. To feel heat rising on my face. To notice the man staring at me. To make a list in my head.
To get interrupted by a humiliating memory, then a sad memory. To be haunted. To not give a fuck. To
become depressed by destination signs; brand new, larger, more “reliable.” To feel a violent, quick
drunkenness without even one glass of wine. To notice the man staring. To decide to be his nurse, step
in a little bit. To glide toward him. I want the train to go so fast it leaves scratch marks against air. To whisper in his ear. To look at him emotionally. To notice a streak of blankness in his eyes. To smile with a mouth
of love. To touch his shoulder. I actually have no place to go. To talk as though I might be on fire. To want to
have an unfamiliar thought. To feel hair whipping my face, suddenly disorganized by new wind. To
stand in exhilaration as the train approaches. To frighten strangers with my enthusiasm. To watch him
look away. To become aware. To get on different train cars. To fix my eyes on some light and sit down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Goldie Negelev is a poet living in Oakland, California