Who would believe my head
touched the pillow before I fell asleep?
That for weeks I thought like lines
of a crosswalk a child sweeps?
I sat, unruly, upon the corner
of the street and did not thrash my arms
or weep. I wore red and walked to the store
I walk to on Fridays or Saturdays and listened to atrocious music from a telephone.
ii.
Jos Charles
Jos Charles is author of a Year & other poems and feeld (Milkweed Editions)—a Pulitzer Prize finalist and winner of the National Poetry Series—and Safe Space (Ahsahta Press). She resides in Long Beach, California, with her best friend and cat.