The State of Containing Nothing

Poem by Josh Lefkowitz

So often in my mind
I wear the title “Writer”
like an invisible blazer
with the subheading “Poet”
as matching pocket-square:
a flourish of pointed color.

But today in the park,
my mood (but why?) a bit dark,
I tried to embrace
the inherent nakedness
I knew to be the truth.

In pasta terms:
I felt the urge
to quit the tagliatelle charade
and accept my inner gnudi.

The park teemed
with busy activity:
barbecues, blankets,
everywhere heavy on the Frisbee.

A class of Capoeira students
practiced their dancing warrior craft,
their bodies in constant motion,
fifteen individual fitness rivers.

Children chalked the nearby asphalt
while off in the distance
one of the volleyball squads
was doing very well.

I knew all this would continue
even if I were to hang
up the pen-and-paper game.
This left me feeling futile
but also somehow fine.

In state terms:
that even if I stopped
trying to stand out
like New York

I could still be the flat plain
Michigan of my youth
where it’s in the awesome emptiness
that so much beauty exists.

Indeed, all my ambition
could one day come to rest
and there’d still be a me
stored in the Upper Peninsula
of memory …

where I’m just a boy,
my hands dirt-smudged,
content, alone,
licking a cone
of Mackinac Island fudge.

JOSH LEFKOWITZ received an Avery Hopwood Award for Poetry at the University of Michigan. His poems and essays have been published in Electric Literature, The Millions, Contrary, The Rumpus, Shooter Literary Magazine (UK), Southword Journal (Ireland), and many other venues. He was born and raised in the suburbs of Detroit.

Made in Michigan is an ongoing curated series of writers born and / or raised in Michigan talking about connections to Michigan. The series is edited by Leah Angstman; inquiries to Lisa Favicchia at editor@thecoilmag.com.