Incidental — Sarah Jamack



you could find yourself in cold rain on a hot night
where raindrops, rain boots, and streetlights combine
in the puddles where you take your longest strides —

the water shakes, shatters, breaks and you feel like
your stomach is heaving while it spins the lights
that guide you home—forget you can look up at signs—

you’ve wanted to drop down on every bench that lined
the road, stick your head in your hands and cry,
paint your fingers with the mascara running by. Join it.


***


Sarah Jamack is a technical writer living in Philadelphia. Her writing has appeared in the Moonstone Press Emerging Poets chapbook, The 33rd, and Maya Literary Magazine.