Poem for a New Brooklynite

Taking poll: how shall I attempt to feel better, after hours of unpacking broken glass? Go out and carouse? Stay in with comfort food?

— Maria DahvanaHeadley (@MARIADAHVANA) November 15, 2013

One of these boxes was exclusively composed of blackened votive candles whose wicks were gone. Kind of living an art installation right now.

— Maria DahvanaHeadley (@MARIADAHVANA) November 15, 2013

Poem for a New Brooklynite
for Maria Dahvana Headley

She unpacks a box of broken glass—
votives, blackened, wickless, lost—
and wonders how the time should pass.

Carouse or comfort? Leave? Amass
cuisines in cardboard, spiced and sauced?
She unpacks a box of broken glass

carefully—a canny lass
must mind her fingers, weigh the cost
while wondering how the time should pass.

So much to do! Such a morass!
She takes a breath, staves off exhaust,
unpacks a box of broken glass

and ponders whether to harass
her crocodile about having flossed
while wondering how the time should pass.

Join the circus? Polish brass?
Or wander out into the frost?
She unpacks a box of broken glass
and wonders how the time should pass.