This is the year I start liking beer again. This is the year I fly
to Taiwan and light paper lanterns
with my student loans. I set perfectly
good furniture by the side of the road.
I buy tickets to operas and forget to go.
This is the year I fall in love again.
I draw eyes on the back of my hands. I eat French fries
with chopsticks and baked beans
right from the can. I leave dollar bills
pasted inside washing machines.
This is the year I forget what you look like.
Here it is. And here. And here.
by Brenda Sieczkowski
published in H_NGM_N #7