Written by Evan McManamy, LMT
Two boys who stutter
Poking around
In a dead woman’s larynx.
— —
We’re all engineers—
Or rather,
We’re all trained
As technicians.
— —
We comprehend
Cricoid cartilage, vocal
Folds, silvery tendon—
Hers
Is so much stiffer
Than ours feel.
— —
— —
I recently
Started surfing.
There is more
To catching a wave
Than to
Catching a bus.
A bus will
Stop for you
At the correct time
In the correct place—
Cartography
And timing.
— —
With a wave,
That
And also—
How are you there?
With your balance,
With your strength and grace,
With your thoughts
And your muscles
So woven.
— —
— —
Most of a life
I have spent
Choking.
Holding stiff
In my throat.
Locked
Tight and quiet—
A silent, breathless
Desperation.
— —
What is it
That we know
Through cartography?
What do we know
When we learn
What
And Where?
— —
Here
Is what
I have learned:
Each breath I take—
Another wave
In the ocean
Of Spirit.
— —
I mean to say—
Maps are changing
And landmarks
Sometimes wash away.
But somehow
I’m learning
A way to breathe
Without holding
My breath.