Hell and Back
- BY AARON CAPELLI
Late in the afternoon, as I walk
past parked cars on the way to dinner,
the golden reflections of adjacent buildings
slide like bubbles up over the dark glass of windshields,
and I think of how I am, we all are,
bodies lodged in some kind of stream.
Over sushi we discuss our funerals.
Someone already has theirs planned out,
though it’s more of a prank, hardly possible.
What troubles me more is how to feel.
To feel is just on the other side of mystery.
There is no walking there,
though I am always trying to walk there —
rain and bow, oil and moon
continuing across evening indigo.
Aaron Capelli is a graduate student at the university of chicago studying creative writing