I can’t be quiet—my mouth gets itchy
when it has words in it. I want
to get my brain out of my mouth
so silence can bless my throat.
I wish this wasn’t real life
and I was just a refrigerator.
I’m going to steal the wings off a bird, fly
up, get you a star, and then give
the bird its wings back. A myth
is a female moth. Is it true that the more
you sneeze, the more blessed you are?
I love the sound of no one talking
or one hand clapping. I can’t show you
how much I missed you because
my hands are too small. If you love
people, tell them you love them
as high as the sky. Parmesan cheese
looks like glitter for spaghetti.
If you spill salt or sugar on the table,
the grains scatter like stars.
If you are panicking and feel
like you are dying, take deep
breaths. If you are actually dying, this
won’t work. Don’t wipe my tears
away. I want to feel them on my face.

* This collage poem is composed in part of things said by children as recorded by teachers or other adults.

Published in Pandemic Puzzle Pieces: A Pandemic Poetry Anthology from Blue Light Press, edited and compiled by Diane Frank & Prartho Sereno, 2021