No 7: ODE TO GRIME

PHOTO BY LUCIA AUERBACH

LUCIA AUERBACH

Boys with dirt under their fingernails try to speak to me.

I climb down from the tree and whisper the following into their ears:

you are full of grime, son

and you have nowhere to turn 

you fall asleep in between the stitches of your sweaters 

do you ever think about dying? 

I am begging to ask you that

here is not the time

now is not the place

I encourage you to decay