Y.E.
There is no consolation
like the enjoyment of music,
no greater cause for selfishness,
no better balm for the failure
of family than to break time;
remember, draw the sun
into the sea, forgo the bitter
business of seasons, abandon
all other appetites but to listen
with a handful of borrowed
dollars to the ice cream truck
play its tinny calliope tune
as it glides the seething
summer streets—we were
kids. Happiness was easy.
Aleksander Zywicki is a first-year MFA candidate at The New School. He teaches AP English Literature in Bayonne, New Jersey. He lives & writes in Jersey City.
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