Thrush Poetry Journal
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Adam D. Weeks
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                       Short Essay Beginning and Ending in Chavatel
 
                    This murmur, this how-much, this that—​
                   this morning The Telegraph told me
                   why men are afraid of being intimate
                   without me even asking. I’ve learned
 
                   so many ways to see myself, no wonder
                   I’m always looking. Isn’t it something
                   to see shapes in the clouds? Down here
                   beneath floating boats and sprinting
 
                   horses, beneath the birth mark just below
                   your left knee—yes, we the inventive.
                  We the collective. We the distracted driver
                   staring at the crash. We are always
 
                   all seeing something. Yesterday I saw
                   news about a new shooting and today
                   I couldn’t tell you in which state
                   it happened. What do we do with all this
 
                   uncertainty beneath us but leave it,
                   faulting? This world’s so loud, all I have
                   left is to look to the sky and say blue,
                   I want so badly to write about anything else.





Adam D. Weeks is an undergraduate student at Salisbury University, the social media manager for The Shore and a poetry reader for Quarterly West. He is a Pushcart Prize nominee and has poetry published or forthcoming in Ninth Letter, Poet Lore, Sugar House Review, Puerto del Sol, Sycamore Review and elsewhere.




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