Wayfinder or Polaris
was the name of the poem
that had been ping-ponging around my periphery
for the better part of two months
This, I thought, would be my magnum opus
the most perfect expression
of the safest direction
I’ve ever known
I envisioned myself writing it out
finally
in Word on my Dell
between case notes
or maybe on a scrap piece of paper
while parked waiting for a client
No fanfare
that is how I imagined it
Important things always flowed effortlessly
like the boy with hair
that was my new favorite color
But that was not the reality
that I have ever lived in
Wayfinder: Polaris
My dad had tried to explain it to me many times:
“The northern star is located in the little dipper;
it is the last star in the handle”
It was lost on me, though
So I tattooed the words on my skin
never considering the still raised lines could
somehow outlast the sentiment
of the lover who never actually
had to speak the words
typing…
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 8:24 PM UTC
Wayfinder or Polaris
was the name of the poem
that had been ping-ponging around my periphery
for the better part of two months
This, I thought, would be my magnum opus
the most perfect expression
of the safest direction
I’ve ever known
I envisioned myself writing it out
finally
in Word on my Dell
between case notes
or maybe on a scrap piece of paper
while parked waiting for a client
No fanfare
that is how I imagined it
Important things always flowed effortlessly
like the boy with hair
that was my new favorite color
But that was not the reality
that I have ever lived in
Wayfinder: Polaris
My dad had tried to explain it to me many times:
“The northern star is located in the little dipper;
it is the last star in the handle”
It was lost on me, though
So I tattooed the words on my skin
never considering the still raised lines could
somehow outlast the sentiment
of the lover who never actually
had to speak the words
typing…
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