2.7.23

(after)math

I was eating Buffalo wings at a bar in Portland. You had to walk down 15 stairs to get there.
There were five wings on a white, oval platter. The drink of the day was something called
“Leaves in Oaxaca.” It was served with a giant cube of ice and a blistered orange peel.
It was trivia night and we played all seven rounds, but failed to give the right answer
to at least half of the questions. We left before 9 and walked two-and-a-half blocks
back to our hotel and climbed up to the third floor, where our room was the second
on the left. I read 10 pages of a book before turning the light off. I woke an hour later.
The room felt too hot by a few degrees. I touched my thumbs to the tip of each finger,
counting 1, 2, 3, 4 until I got drowsy again. Eight time zones away, an earthquake registering
7.8 broke too many countries into too many pieces. The number of dead keeps rising.

© Maya Stein

For more about me and my work, go here.
For a backlog of "10-line Tuesday" poems, go here.
Want to work with me one-on-one? Learn more here.

Join my Substack newsletter for a behind-the-scenes look at my poetry practice.
Visit my shop for books of poetry, writing prompts booklets, and more.