Is packaged in the scratched plastic, one and a half times my height.
We trust TD, Ted and I
But doubt the trustworthiness of the bus schedule.
It’s quite possible that I won’t get to save today
Anyone, not a single Puerto Rican fished out of the NY harbor.
Fortunately, Facebook colors the waiting
Into the shades of hope and angst:
There’s a poet who’s contemplating danger and worldwide demise
A poetess, if there’s such a word
Whose love life never materialized—
They supply fruity taste of absurd
To the cocktail of this morning.
Facebook is my coloring book
With the sour fruit of imagination on the cover.
Facebook is my hungry Big Bird
Opening its beak expecting likes.
In my anguish, I ban them all.
I’d be better off in the Russian banya
Where wet leaves imitate foliage
And at the very least won’t make my knees freeze
Unrescued mankind is munching on its upteenth dream.
Ted’s pale lips are touched by the first symptoms of dawn.
Buses are nowhere to be seen.
We haven’t made up our minds
Whether Puerto Ricans are ours at all.
Wishing upon the bus: if it makes it here while it's still light
They are worth rescuing, and if not
I can always go back and check out the darkness
Of my underblanket
Galina Itskovich writes poetry and prose in two languages. Her work appeared in Poetica, Asian Signature, Cardinal Points, Former People, Contemporary Jewish Writing. Her fiction was shortlisted in the Open Eurasia contest (2017). Also, there are multiple publications in Russian language journals and almanacs.
She lives in New York City with her family and an aging dog.