Sara Smollett

October 28, 1997

marbles spilled on the floor
I step gingerly around
spread piles of blue and gold and green and purple
bend over and pick up the one yellow one
then drop it back again
thousands and thousands of marbles
like jelly beans with all the same flavor.

none of it is enough
but together it is all too much
because it is nothing.

write an essay about what you did last night
you said
and I know you don't mean it.

you tell me to read about thoughts
and La Palisse and Don Quixote
and I do because I want
it to be meant.

you ask me what you should do
and I don't know why
you think I care.

and you tell us to talk to our
and figure out a method
and then I'm asked what I think
and I say I think I can't
take it and you say oh.

should I use a for loop
or a while statement for my breakdown?

and you visited me in a dream
told me life is a method with bugs
and only now have I figured that out.

and you are the bus
that I have been waiting for
the one that passed me
as I lay flat on pavement.

and all of a sudden it is all
very very easy
because it is nothing
at all.