Unmailed Letter by Joy Harjo
It’s noon. I can hardly stand it.
If anything touches me, I am ashes.
Your laugh, and I considered myself
resurrected, but then made the correction
for time and space and it still added
to an irrational number.
It’s elementary. You can’t add
apples and oranges. I’ve mixed
faith with your distraction.
But I was never good at math.
Or with any test that meant jumping hoops
of water. This is how it is at specifically
noon. I am fire eaten by wind.
I drink water for a cure
that will teach me the fine art
Both of these poems come from Joy Harjo’s book In Mad Love and War from Wesleyan
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Below is the marquee from the night Danielle read with Joy Harjo. Just sharing as proof.