Jen Currin

1972 / Portland, Oregon

I Slept Last Night

And she will slap me & slam
out of this story.
Another prison narrative
ending in photography.
We were drinking chamomile tea,
contemplating international apples.
You were having a good visit with your spirit
& a terribly awkward friend.
Now at the airport, a person
who has difficulty with authenticity
climbs out of her plastic bags.
In actions as well as words,
we are sorry.
Lately you've been glistening
in & out of luck,
filling one notebook after another.
Lately you've been wandering.
I faced east to know you
but you were already recording
our farewell music,
a tinny drum & just a few bells…
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