A Skeptic at Night
for Tyler Clementi
When there is heaviness at the end of a day, I sometimes catch myself in
accidental prayer. “God—” my mouth will drop, like a pearl rosary bead falling
from my tongue. Today I heard about the college boy who jumped off a bridge,
the water swallowing him in one gulp. His roommate had perched a camera
near his bed to catch him with other boys. “God—” I say, like a blackbird
slipping from my mouth.
Lia Greenwell is an MFA candidate at Warren Wilson College where she is a Rona Jaffe Fellow. A Michigan native, she now lives in Brooklyn.
Tags: Front, God, lgbt, Lia Greenwell, Night, Poetry, Prose Poetry, Skeptic, suicide
This entry was posted
on Thursday, October 20th, 2011 at 10:48 am and is filed under Poetry.
You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.