Faking It Made

I feel like this poem may need a preface. I don’t know why pasta sauce was so prominently on my mind when I wrote this poem, but I bought pasta sauce from Whole Foods a week ago. When I was checking out, the cashier told me that she loved the brand of sauce I got and said she would never make sauce again or buy another kind again. That came to me as I was searching for inspiration, so bon appétit!

Day 17: “Homemade Pasta”

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Store-bought pasta sauce

decorates the noodles nicely

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Store-bought pasta sauce

makes you new friends

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Store-bought pasta sauce

saves you time

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Store-bought pasta sauce

brings compliments to the chef

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Got a problem?

Maybe store-bought pasta sauce is right for you.

Day 16: “To never understand”

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Harsh realities

Life ends in death

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poverty is ruthless

claiming victims

spiraling their lives

leaving them for dead

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I watched a film

for a college class

about a life of death

in the lower class

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my eyes rained

and my nose sniffled

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I crawled into bed

and turned out the light

Day 14: Untitled

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Pictures and games

A Friday night in

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Music that transports

Cookies that say,

“Hang in there”

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Nostalgia and adulthood all

wrapped up in one

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Awkward and thriving

Sad and happy

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Dancing and singing to childhood memories

All while forming new ones

Day 13: “Splintering”

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Change happens

But is it really change

if the foundation is splintered, wilted, not a foundation at all

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Not capable of lifting us up

of pushing us all forward?

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How do we rebuild?

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Rallying cries and gestures raise attention, awareness

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But the problem is bigger

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A collapsing structure that never worked for anyone anyway,

Not for everyone, not for anyone

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Do we let it fall?

Or do we patch the cracks?

Day 12: Untitled

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The darkened sky

The restless stillness

Mirrors my own

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The pillows of white

and grey

and the faintest shade of blue

---

litter the sky

and my mind

---

so much to do

so I sit and watch

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the lifeless sky float by

and imagine I could do the same

Day 11: “Loading”

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My eyes glaze over

the dreaded monotony

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The clacks translate to an illuminated screen

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20 lifeless faces stare back at me

through me

past me

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we sit still

for an hour and 15 minutes

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we make claims

too big for our brains

---

we smile and say thanks

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we try not to dwell on

the fact that

we have to do it all again tomorrow

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Connected disconnection: the modern classroom

Day 10: “Morning in the City”

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Wake up and hear the birdies sing

Hear the Machinery clank and bang

Hear the sirens roar

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Look out at blue skies

Concrete walkways

Giant slabs of brick

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Smell the crisp air

the exhaust from motorized demons

the fumes from sidewalk smokers

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Good morning D.C.

Good morning to me.

Day 9: “Good Night”

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Lavender and peppermint

bring good sleep

I pray

---

Not another restless night

---

deep rest

dreamless

---

comfortable

peaceful

---

please

Day 8: “Existentialism”

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Years feel like centuries

Who I was

A distant ancestor

Who I will be

A tiny speck

On the continuum of me’s there will be

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I am

A microcosm

of the past, present, and dreamed future

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I say goodbye to me tonight

And greet me in the morning

Ready to transform.