New Year's Poem

SONNET FOR TUESDAY (JANUARY 1, 2008)


Hi there, inventory of my life. I have driven
crunchy, loopy highways into the wilderness
to take you by flashlight, in a time before computers,
while my bored crew munches on paperbacks
back in the panting station wagon
parked 300 miles away in the Beth Emeth parking lot.
You taught me a nifty party trick,
where I divide my brain into five distinct segments:
Razovsky, Blatt, a camping trip in Grade 6,
the machinations of my organs, and Claes Oldenburg’s
Giant Hamburger. I sit in a circle
all by myself and try to convince myself
that I love myself, and a passing forklift agrees.
I rake fingers through my hair and pluck out a stray breeze.


Stuart Ross
Vancouver, January 1, 2008