Lena Tsykynovska



I wrote this first part of “months’day” on June 22, and I then kept writing the poem every second or third day til December. I'm not sure yet if the poem will actually have this title or what language it is talking about, but “months’day” is I think a day that continues and won't end.


Excerpt from “months’day”

If  I  am  always  listening  for  a  language  if  I
 never  heard  that  word  but  I knew  it  when  I
heard  the  sound  it  made  I  am  listening  for
your  language  I  havent  heard  you  speak  yet,
and I dreamed  I  was  the  one  who  was  his
mother  and  father,  .  and  I  dreamed  about  schools.
fathers,  schools,  it  had the  narrow
roundness  of  a  fake  thing  little  mirror  or  a 
life,  calling  like  it  can  be  limitless  when  I
 get  there  I  never  know  if  that’s  you  talking,  I
always  thought  it  was  someone  else , talking  over
the  elaborate  singing. like  when  you  wrote
me  an  email  and  claimed  I  was  imitating  as  I
always  did
a  tree  in  pink  shade  is  made.
the things I thought I hated I loved, that life
is made of, in going, and to others
tararaboombiay it will not rain today,
he sings to you,
I recall flying over the ocean
making his own age, strange to him as it is
to most or all, I don’t know yet
but if   know and truth seeking continue
then that may well be the apple of
the day in cloud riven or, not forgiven for
 arriving late
to the first knowledge we have not come to



Lena Tsykynovska lives in Chicago, and is the author of The Last Days Of My Boyhood and The Golden World.