Submission - Poetry
Jennifer Bartolo, second-year, Cowell
Impedimenta
I am from a street with a flowery name,
from backaches and smoke breaks.
I’m from waking up too early
and forgetting the day.
I am from two blocks away,
where two lions mark the territory.
I’m from the clean-it-ups
and the eat-it-alls,
from Cover your chest, it’s cold!
and He repaireth my soul
with Pine-Sol
and a blue washcloth.
I am from the garden in the backyard,
next to the prickly pears
and five very spoiled dogs.
From swollen feet to the dwindled beats.
I am from the bulb in the garage,
the idle flicker in the dark.
The tears that prick my eyes when
the luminance is gone.
That room is full of too many things.
Opening it would spill the heart
and expel the past.
But if we crack the door just one inch,
Maybe it won’t hurt as bad.
