I’d like to share another poem by Ocean Vuong because 1) he’s my favorite new poet and author and 2) my mind’s all kinds of foggy. I’m finally, you see, FINALLY kicking my infamous coffee habit, and eliminating processed sugar to boot.

So yeah, these last few days have been challenging, but long overdue, and I’m taking advantage of my blah-ness by reading wonderful poetry, which, FYI, is unbeatable accompaniment to a splitting headache.

Eurydice

by Ocean Vuong

It’s more like the sound

a doe makes

when the arrowhead

replaces the day

with an answer to the rib’s

hollowed hum. We saw it coming

but kept walking through the hole

in the garden. Because the leaves

were bright green & the fire

only a pink brushstroke

in the distance. It’s not

about the light—but how dark

it makes you depending

on where you stand.

Depending on where you stand

his name can appear like moonlight

shredded in a dead dog’s fur.

His name changed when touched

by gravity. Gravity breaking

our kneecaps just to show us

the sky. We kept saying Yes—

even with all those birds.

Who would believe us

now? My voice cracking

like bones inside the radio.

Silly me. I thought love was real

& the body imaginary.

But here we are—standing

in the cold field, him calling

for the girl. The girl

beside him. Frosted grass

snapping beneath her hooves.