Is packaged in the scratched plastic, one and a half times my height.
We trust TD, Ted and I
But doubt the trustworthiness of the bus schedule.
It’s quite possible that I won’t get to save today
Anyone, not a single Puerto Rican fished out of the NY harbor.
Fortunately, Facebook colors the waiting
Into the shades of hope and angst:
There’s a poet who’s contemplating danger and worldwide demise
A poetess, if there’s such a word
Whose love life never materialized—
They supply fruity taste of absurd
To the cocktail of this morning.
Facebook is my coloring book
With the sour fruit of imagination on the cover.
Facebook is my hungry Big Bird
Opening its beak expecting likes.
In my anguish, I ban them all.
I’d be better off in the Russian banya
Where wet leaves imitate foliage
And at the very least won’t make my knees freeze
Unrescued mankind is munching on its upteenth dream.
Ted’s pale lips are touched by the first symptoms of dawn.
Buses are nowhere to be seen.
We haven’t made up our minds
Whether Puerto Ricans are ours at all.
Wishing upon the bus: if it makes it here while it's still light
They are worth rescuing, and if not
I can always go back and check out the darkness
Of my underblanket
Galina Itskovich is a Russian-American who was born in Ukraine. She's lived in New York City for more than two decades and practices psychotherapy, occasionally volunteering for Medical Reserve. Psychotherapists are not supposed to share their political views or personal opinions. Creative writing helps, though. She's been writing poetry and short fiction in English and in Russian for many years, without any attempts to publish until recently. In the past couple of years, however, her poetry, translations and short fiction have been published in magazines and almanacs in two languages.