in the teen comedy

pregnancy was a metaphor

for an obstacle

& a beginning and the tears

escaped despite

our lifelong

defenses. As if

there’d be no scar …

As if romance

would begin again

& again & the world

retain its blooming

cherries and succeeding

dogwoods the youth

of the day

unrevenged. Envy

is too little pondered

as a human

engine and the future

too open is lashed

shut by a shuddering

wind we take

as punishing

when it’s only the indifferent

wind. Imaginary natives

attending the world

we call local

know every taste

and ripple of each wind

we simply call wind.

In my next life

I will come

with big eyes & wide ears

and nothing will escape

my attention & all the names

will flower on my fluent

tongue, fuckwind.

Today I’ll say

wind is the wind

that winds through

every sharp breath

I’m taken by

— Fuckwind by Maureen McLane