Spring 2003 • Vol. XXV No. 2 Poetry |

I Mean Everything I Say

A boy's first fistfight he's crying all the way through it, sumptuously alive, and the girl raging in her room against the elite of the earth, it's so unconventional, emotion in the chest, the emptiness after passion, hope like money in a jar, it's all feeling, an expansiveness unwasted and alive, no one completely understands this, like rain on a clear day, or amplitude, the unrestricted dispensations, someone offering a seat, someone hitting wildly back, the ugly judgment in the plutocrat's eyes, all from the heart, the jostling that begins low in the soul, some day in August when the new lover, disguised as someone who hates you, wheels around the corner adjusting her hat, and that brisk business in the big oaks, wind conveying some new way of life, or nothing important across town, it touches you.

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Charlie Smith has written five New York Times Notable Books and has received grants from the Guggenheim Foundation, the National Endowment for the Arts, and the New York Foundation for the Arts.

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A boy's first fistfight he's crying all the way through it, sumptuously alive, and the girl raging in her room against the elite of the earth, it's so unconventional, emotion […]

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