You’re 64 today & Will it get better? by Levi Comstock

Levi Comstock is a high school orchestra teacher, composer, and poet from Minneapolis, MN. He holds a BA in Music Education from St. Olaf College and a MA in Education from Concordia University in St. Paul. He plays viola in the North Star String Quartet and is the author of the chapbook Thirties.

You’re 64 today

and celebrating in the Target parking lot 

with a cardboard sign.

Styrofoam cups strewn like confetti,

and a few motorists roll down the windows 

to offer a wad of dollar or weed—

same old gifts.

Last year you didn’t say anything, 

just watched the cars age by,

blowing out the smoke of their tail pipes.

Who knows why you decided 

to mention it on today’s bulletin board?

Something a little different.

Probably the same reason that little girl 

made her dad circle back with the chocolate cake.

Same reason you brought the other half 

to your brother down the block—

to celebrate.

Another year older,

But now?

Not so close

to death.

Will it get better?

He asks about the whole world,

head to its whimpering fur

As I rifle the far corners

of my brain 

for a bottle of 

gelcap answers,

I cut myself on something 

I must have stuffed back there

And it never ached 

like this does,

watching him

And I can’t find the words 

I used to need–

But it wouldn’t matter anyway. 

He has outgrown 

Easy Comfort and also

how do you turn teen

in a world that is shaking like this?

How can you dream into a future 

that doesn’t seem to want you?