print previewback HALA ALYAN
A Love Letter to My Panic
You’re as pretty as a shark. I never thanked you for the
supermarket flowers, those September windows opening
and shutting like a call to prayer. I don’t get off
on pain anymore. I understand now why the one coast
ripped into two; sometimes what’s left of a good heart
is the desire to stop beating. You walk from the East River
to tell me but baba used to sing more why must Miriam
sound like a woman are you sure this air isn’t expired is
that lump a tumor is that husband a lie goddamnit wake up
and love me. You’re the one that showed me the sad lights
of taxicabs, the sigh in that Jenny Lewis song. I made you up,
all heels and mascara. I told you not to listen when I said no. 
For Jamaica, for Ru
A Love Letter to My Panic
New Year
Post-Election Morning