[ToC]

 

OUR EMMA, FAIREST WHEN FLEEING—

BJ Soloy

 

 

Don't be discouraged, though we wrote this
in the dressing room of a department store

while moving trucks on Reserve
turned diesel into sky. Your leaving

approaches silent as a shut-in
on a golf cart, name of Bill,

who can't help but mean well.

 

As you quit this town—a habit
of space—put on your oldest shirt

& ugliest shoes. Listen to Jesus
for a stretch on the FM band.

Keep your sunglasses loaded & ready.

 

Night, as we know it, is hours away.
When it comes to, we'll drink up wine & sleep

fitfully. When you give up on the Word,
wear a soundtrack angry & earnest

& loud. Try to feel welcome in South Dakota,
Minnesota, wherever. Smile if you have to.

 

 

 

 

 

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This poem was written for Emma Torzs, who lives [here], when she decided to leave the town of Missoula, MT heartbroken. It later joined a load of other apostrophic poems (some to friends, some to dead celebrities) in a tidy little manuscript we're calling Selected Letters.