Adam Byrn Tritt's Blog, page 2

The Vigil

This is the vigil-
To protect you from the wolves
After the nights
Sitting up,
Singing to you
Heart Sutra.
“Don’t leave me.”
I won’t.

Holding your hand,
Touching your heart,
Fingers in your hair.
“You don’t get tired.”
It isn’t time for me
To rest.
For you though –

Watching you breath
Watching you stop.

Open the doors.
Sunrise.
Keep the wolves away.
Wait.

Feel the sudden change.
“Where is she?”
Gone. Gone. Beyond gone.
Beyond beyond.
To the other shore.

Let the people roll in,
Roll out.

Gather the...

Dwarf or Troll

I have been mean to myself over the last two weeks. Even more than usual, and that is saying something. Extraordinarily mean. Exceedingly, aggressively mean. So hostile I have stopped myself in surprise. So rude I have wondered how I could treat anyone that way, let alone myself. And, yet, I have. I do. I am.

This is not mere description, not evaluation, but judgement. All judgement. I have vacillated in my belief of free-will, and yet somehow feel that my willpower is fully under my control. And...

George Floyd Square

Cup Foods is vibrant with activity. Deli counter, shelves stacked with locally-made foods, locally grown produce on open shelves. Parents walk in with their children, picking summer treats.  At tables, men sit and talk about George in a way that says “We knew him. We knew him well.”  That says he is still here. It is a multi-hued humanity in a neighbourhood hub.

This is 38th Street and Chicago, George Floyd Square, Brooklyn Center, Minneapolis. To get into Cup Foods, one could avoid the spot ...

Don’t Lock the Door

The difference is I didn’t lock the door.

The difference is I knew I wasn’t in a mind where I could make my best decisions. That, for a time, It was best to let others decide some things for me. 

But Jym is dead now. He died alone. He didn’t have to.

It wasn’t much more than a year since Denise died. At home, from seizures associated with her MS. She had trouble affording her medication and rationed it. Then, when she needed the hospital, they were too busy with Covid patients, and told...

Shudder Reflex

I’m trying to write 
a poem about a man who
died with a hood on his head,
naked, on the street,
pleading for his life,
murdered while the cameras rolled,
at the hands of those
who are supposed to protect him— 
a public snuff film.

I’m sorry, I don’t remember his name.
There have been so many.

My shudder reflex is still active.
I can’t watch this, but
I watch regardless—
in some small way so he 
would not die without witness,
after witness, after witness, after….

How do I write about this? 
What can I ...

The Parable of the Horse or Just Don’t Know

An old Chinese farmer had lost his mare, having escaped through a broken fence. His neighbor, seeing this, shook his head and said what bad fortune this was. The old farmer only replied, Could be. Could be.

The horse returned and brought with her a stallion. His neighbor, seeing the fine horse, remarked what good fortune he had. The farmer replied. Could be. Could be.

His son tried to tame the horse, to ride him, but the horse threw him off. His son broke his leg. The neighbor said how sorry...

Empty Chairs

It is coming onto to Passover. A month ago I invited people over to share seder with us. The first time in ten years. More years. The first time I have celebrated passover since Lee died. The first time I have written died instead of left. The anniversary of my first year in my new house.

I asked Lisa if she wanted to have Passover in our new home. She said yes. She was excited. That was all I needed.

We used to have a house full of people. In the haggadah, the book that has the order of the...

Food

Food is a pain in the ass. I understand it isn’t supposed to be, but it is. And I understand how ungrateful I sound saying so. Food is necessary, I know, but I like to think it isn’t. That it doesn’t need to be.

I think I hate food, actually. I’d say I hate food except when I’m eating it, but that isn’t true. I hate food even when I’m eating it. I hate food even when I’m enjoying it. I know that enjoyment is thoroughly transitory and, unless my food it is perfectly chosen and portioned, it wi...

The names of the dead were hushed at Kings Buffet.

It is one year since the shootings at Marjory Stoneman Douglas Highschool in South Florida. While we wish it could have been the last, already, there have been others.

The students, the citizens, of March for our Lives have been criticized for eclipsing the names of the people who died, but, as David Hogg said, while he understands that, they are working to make sure there comes a time when there are no more people who die this way, so their deaths will not have been for nothing. They are wor...

You Almost Died

Today several times
You almost died
Without even knowing it
Disaster nearly struck

On your way to or from
There was the car
You didn’t see
Swerving around you
Recklessly

On the street were
Myriad near misses
And close calls as
You went about

Running errands
Among the people
You turned your head
Just before the cough
That would have

Laid you low
Along with the multiple
Diseases looking to latch
Onto to you and
The carrier who stayed home

Because she felt too ill
To go out or
The man who chose...