The Disaster Cover
Sept 11, 2001 - Poem
This is my blanket
My daughter called it a blankie when she was a baby
Now I feel babyish and call it the same
You can get underneath my blankie, like so—
Or I can embrace you with it—
You’ll feel warmer
You’ll feel babyish
You’ll fall on top of me like an exhausted lover, under my cover, and
I’ll feel the weight of your world crumble on top of me.
We’ll both feel safer, in a blanket
Even though nothing has changed
Your side will be by mine and and that’s the final place I want it
This side of my blanket
is the soft part, the part you hold against your cheek when all the other soft parts get
blown to bits
And this side of the blanket
is the fuzzy part—
the side that stays fuzzy even when the picture elsewhere gets all too clear
Here’s the dark part of my blanket
The place where I wanted to rest my eyes forever-
But my memories leaked in like sunlight,
And my eyes grew so red they’ll never sleep the same again
I wish I could make the bad smell go away with my b…