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Writer's pictureBloomfield College Underground

Five Poems from Sarina Vail

Updated: Apr 29, 2019

Buried


What was it like, dear?

That night we were both here

Sunset fading

Dim light on the dirt

When you reached down

And you pulled me up from the Earth


I was the last here,

Fading pink among green

I never expected

Someone would take pity

On me

I was wilted

When you found me


But you took me home anyway

Something I can never

Expect to repay


Your hands gentle

Scooping into the dirt

Brown under fingernails

A glow of kindness

On your face


My new home

In front of a window

So I can look out

Towards the dense forest

Where I was once

Withering

Fading

Dying

Here with my window

Here with you

I can grow

I can blossom

I can heal

Knowing you will be here for me

To make sure I never fade

The way I used to


Every day, every week

New family comes through the door

In your hands Sarina Vail

Brown with the dirt

Orange, white, yellow, red

To join me

Looking out onto the world


They come through the door

Looking far brighter

Than I was when I arrived

It makes me feel

Special

Like I was an exception

To some unwritten rule

Do they feel that, too?

Sitting next to me

At our window


Still,

I will not ask

Why you came for me

When I was hopeless

Just know that I think

Of that night

Every night

When the moon shines

In the same way

It did for us




 



Shaking Hands


Grandmother

Mother of my mother

We call you Nanny

Gentle and kind

Supposed to be


Small apartment up high On the river

Overlooking the city

Plants on the window sills

Begging for fresh air


Pictures of Jesus

On every shelf

Except in the kitchen

Ash trays scattered

On every table and counter


One bed, one bath

No escape, no path


Shaking hands as she cuts carrots

Shaking hands as she fills out a crossword puzzle

Shaking hands as she changes the channel on the TV

Small, pale, boney

Shaking hands


VHS Tapes of Bugs Bunny

Looney tunes

Jacket with Tweety Bird on the back

Too big clothes

Sagging


Dresser full of night gowns

Drawers of knick knacks

Lighters, keychains, cigarette butts

Cluttered and overflowing

Ashes on the floor

Rubbed into the rug


18th floor, second door

Came in one time

Can’t leave anymore

Shaking hands as she opens the kitchen drawer

Shaking hands as she grabs the hardcover book

Shaking hands and little bags

Shaking hands and razor blades

Frail, thin, weak

Shaking hands


Fold out couch

Metal bars

Padded surface

Too many blankets

Bad night’s sleep


TV with the price is right

Old remote

Electronic poker game

Taking notes

Throw the numbers away


Inspectors coming

Knock on the door

Hide in the bathroom

Run the shower

Never come out


Shaking hands in front of the mirror

Shaking hands on greying skin and greying hair

Shaking hands lock the kitchen door

Shaking hands as she brings the straw to her nose

Shaking hands as she leaves

Still hands as she leaves

Motionless hands as she leaves

Cold, sickly, dead

Once shaking hands




 



Leading Me Down


Rushing down white hallways

Chasing down white hallways

Being led down white hallways

Twisting and turning

With each new turn

Less and less doors

Line the walls


Following him

Through the corridors

Dust collecting

On all the surfaces

Around a bend

And down the stairs

Dirty and scuffed stairs


A plastic divider

Covered in graffiti

Green-Orange-Red

Words and symbols

Across the walls

Following us

Down the stairs


He leads me Under the tape

Into construction

Wooden boards

Drywall

Tools

Scattered around

Plastic wrapped floors

Plastic wrapped doors

Until we come to a doorway

Closed but not locked

Nothing in the way

To actually stop us

No sign that says off limits

But the feeling in the air

Says otherwise


Push the metal bar

That swings open the door

To see a huge room

Old and covered in dust

In the middle sits

An empty pool

Completely drained

Of anything it should have


Grating removed and tossed to the side

Leaving empty holes to cut off pipes

The deep end filled with trash

Debris scattered around the edges

Metal guard rails line

The entire thing


All the way down here

An underground abandoned pool

But yet the room still has windows

Looking out reveals they lead nowhere

Only more walls

More darkness


The sense that something is wrong

Hangs pungent and strong

Lingering through the air of the room

Till I look around

And realize

He’s gone





 


Q104.3


Car rides late at night

Street lights coming and going

Through the backseat windows

Gameboy battery is almost gone


Flick the power switch off

Look up to see

My father driving

My mother in the passenger’s seat


Q104.3 on the radio

Classic rock

No commercial breaks

It’s 12 am


Might have school in the morning

Can’t think

Music blasting

I can hear them sing


I can pretend I know the words

In my head

But if I said them out loud

I would be seconds too slow


They couldn’t hear me anyway

Even if I tried to talk to them

Even if I wanted to

I know they wouldn’t listen


I can see my father

Reach over

Grab my mother’s thigh

Driving with one hand


I don’t know if we are on the way home

I can’t tell where we are

Nothing but highway lanes

Hardly any other cars out at this hour


The minutes tick on

Becoming closer and closer

To sunrise

As the time on the radio counts up


I can close my eyes

Feel the lights whip across my eyelids

As I lean my head on my arm

Up against the car window


The gentle rumble

Of driving on paved roads

Lulls me to sleep

In the backseat


Somehow the music doesn’t wake me

As they continue to play

Full volume

Classic rock, Q104.3


Exit the highway

Onto city streets

Fast turns and

Ran red lights


Eyes off the road

Maybe for not even more

Than a couple seconds

But that is enough


It’s nearly 2 am

Barely any other cars on the road

Except for us

Us and a Blue Toyota


I don’t have time

To jolt awake

Before I fly forward

We fly forward


I fly backwards

We fly backwards

The radio stops

We stop


The world goes black





 


Old Laundry


Do you know that feeling?

The one where

The sun is bright

On a day you weren’t expecting it

Where sitting outside

And feeling the breeze

Feel as good as you always wanted it to

Without it being too cold


Talking on the phone

At a train station

With someone you very rarely call

Unless you absolutely have to

Just to talk about your day

Because this time unlike the others

You actually have something to say


Making plans

For this month

And the next

Your birthday

Eight months ahead

The next year entirely


It’s a strange feeling

Like resolving a problem

After lingering near it

For weeks on end

Like walking out into a clearing

And seeing the space around you

For the very first time


Doing away with old laundry

Instead of cleaning it up

Because it doesn’t fit anymore anyway

And trying to squeeze it on

Just became less and less worth it

Over the years


Getting off the phone early

Becomes harder

When you actually have

Things left to say


Hearing a promise callback

Is different

But not unwelcome

When the train is coming

Any minute anyway





 


Bio:



Hi, I'm Sarina Vail! I make games, I draw art, I write things, and I am always tired. A game design major that dabbles in just about everything else because, well, why not? I write short fiction, usually YA style stories about queer teens and their troubled yet romantic lives. I write poetry, usually about all the absolute bullshit that life has handed me, ya know, childhood hardships and all that. And lastly ... I just draw whatever I feel like.

Here's some fun facts about me:

  • My first pet was a mouse! His name was speedy, and he was black and white speckled.

  • I strike fear into the hearts of my enemies.

  • I love board games, they are one of my favorite hobbies. I consider myself to be pretty good at deck builders, a recent favorite being Mystic Vale.

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