top of page
  • Writer's pictureJan Avellana

Sidewalk

One day you will run out of sidewalk And you don’t be able to run away from yourself anymore. You’ll sit on the pavement, Burning a hole through your paint splattered jeans Just you and the weeds, looking at one another in silence Both of you wondering, “How did I get here?”

“How do I live a different life?” You will ask the weed and it will not answer (it is a weed). So you will make your way and be off, Holey pants and all, Too, so, damned tired to care anymore Spent from trying to figure out the unfigureoutable tangle that is your life (However did you get that thought planted in your mind that there are answers anyways?) and you will find that thing, that doohickey whatchamacalit that makes the whizzy thing work and then you can lay down and die in peace finally, But not til then, Not til then.


-Jan Avellana Hongo, 2023

Recent Posts

See All

Lemons

This was the toughest week I've had in a while--but I'm still alive, I'm still here and I am resilient AF. I want to talk smack about all of it. I want to say all the things about the person I dealt w

On that Day

One day the weeping will cease and your body, so tired from heaving sobs, will release itself and rest will finally come to your bones You will close your eyes and smile, and the air will be sweet and

Comentarii


bottom of page