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Hey oldhead, a voice called out, you want to go?

No, thank you, I said and raised my hand as if he’d asked me
to sign a petition.

When I fought Ryan in the cafeteria I only hit him
three times before Mr. Coleman grabbed my shoulder

and pushed me against the wall.

All my friends are so busy, and when they’re dying, I’ll have something to give them.

I don’t really pray anymore except to say help. 

I feel I’m more raccoon
—with questions curious as paws—
than brother to these patients, for whom the moon
seems closer company than either me or God.

I thought you’d be born
in Jerusalem.

I don’t blame you for that.

You could scatter the shoots across the world 
and they would die together, as one body.

Graphite’s lack of material complexity also feels honest. Since it’s a simple form of carbon, any mystery in a graphite work is created through process, and that feels like starting from a place of truth.