ON READING THE ALUMNI DIRECTORY
Surprised
How few of us have made it.
The years are quiet
The years are far between.
Through interstices fall
Class clowns
The sluts, the giant
Nobodies
The possessed; hunted
Now as they were then;
“address unknown”
“Still lives with Mom”
“Religious cult”
“Deadbeat”
“Moved…nowhere.”
My bloodmate’s unmarried
would we get still along?
I translate terpsichore to English, so
Journalism incompatible.
He lives so far away;
Law’s a bitch and
They got my address wrong.
Alysse Aallyn 
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