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Poem to my Daughter

The sky has, is, one exit, one excuse,

and if I’m dead now that I’m saying this,

I can’t vouch for my transition from life

as having been rough or even evident.

Have I tried turning it off and then on again?

Have I tried throwing it against the wall?

Getting to know you, getting to know all

about you getting the mirror to mean

not only me, and thinking I must look

dumber than I look—dumber, then, than prose—

I walk through the laundry room regretting

getting the weekend done this way, as if

backstage, and say the name of your birthplace

as if I’d lost a hundred dollars there,

which I may have . . . Dear, when nowhere, don’t do

as those of us in nowhere do—just go.

from NightingalelessnessFind more by Graham Foust at the library

Copyright © 2018 Graham Foust
Used with the permission of Flood Editions.

Published in Graham Foust Poems

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this (publication, website, exhibit, etc.) do not necessarily represent those of the Idaho Humanities Council or the National Endowment for the Humanities.

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