Letter to Alex After His Unexpected Death
for Alex Tizon
I like to ease into the morning like the slow rise of a river
in spring I leaf from bed to couch and the Skykomish
River is full and flowing outside the window
You died the day I stopped talking to my mother She said I hated her
because I couldn’t forget the meth that took her teeth
or the suicide pistol she took into her bathroom Alex, our tributaries
should have touched at a few more places along this map
Your barstool is empty next to mine I sit cross-legged
with my glass full Ask me another question Tell me again
Oh Sarah you’re in trouble girl
When you describe how you’re doing say again
the way I felt seeing the flowers at your funeral
the way I feel knowing they’ve outlived you.
Sarah Jones is a poet and freelance writer living in Seattle. She is a Poetry Northwest staff member, and was an editorial intern with C&R Press. Before interning with C&R Press, Sarah was an assistant poetry editor of Lunch Ticket and Soundings Review. Her poetry has been featured on NPR and the Bridge. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Entropy Magazine, The Normal School, New Ohio Review, Raven Chronicles, City Arts Magazine, Yes, Poetry, and many other publications. You may visit her website at: www.sarahjonespoet.com.