Remember the Minoans, Blithe,
And how they are so utterly gone from this world
And all their thoughts and habits and buildings
Are lost, save their art, and the white moon of their images.
Remember that we all die in the end,
And the only thing that keeps us real is our memory.
Salinger taught us this in this moment:
Teddy, standing by the window of the ship,
Looking down at orange peels, wondering how real they might have been
Before they sank their pallid shells beneath the ocean.
How can I then look at myself—me with this silly art
And these nameless poems destined for disuse?
Instructions for the Ranger >>
Jalen A. Blithe is a Magenta-Street-raised creative writing and history double major at Purchase College, SUNY. He likes old things and reads epic poetry. His favorite hip-hop album is Black on Both Sides.