Statement of Purpose

This is the time to work
on my statement of purpose.

I am told it will be
the hardest thing I ever write.

That’s not crippling, really.
It’s is 7:14 a.m.
My sweater is laid over the couch
near the heater.

Hopefully dry by the time I head
to writing group.

What should I focus on?
My strange academic career?
My typewriter case full of books
from when I was young?

If I get into grad school
it will be a miracle.
He has kept me alive on
miracles lately.

Laura is letting me borrow
her bike, because my brake
cable snapped while I was riding.

Hers is beautiful and brown,
called Commuter II.
She is a miracle.
Write Amy. You’ve got
to put down something on
that screen.

Caitie is praying the Lord’s
prayer in the chair across from me.
Now Caitie is dozing off,
dreaming of heaven I guess.

I know what I want.

To live in the way
of miracles, even if it
means dying without them.

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About amyleighcutler

Writer, dancer, vagabond extraordinaire
This entry was posted in fall, Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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