Jody's Notes
Odd. My poems usually survive in manuscript form anywhere from three or four years to twenty before they get into print. An exception: this poem was written in the fall of 2012.
Sorry about that: the poetry/notes toggle sitting smack between the title of the poem and the first line. Especially awkward here where the first line continues the thought in the title. (A typical maneuver in many poems: I rarely use it--maybe once or twice in my life.)
to keep crying in front of you.
I should be properly shoe:
hollow in self,
warmly surface.
Emotion,
clearly, isn’t for everyone;
it isn’t for me, anyway.
Each time glass throbs with light,
I break straws,
wander to the left and right,
watch the oil my palms make.
I am clearly turning into something new:
If I haven’t been this before:
Forgive me.
© 2013 Jody Azzouni