Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note- Amiri Baraka

I'm not entirely sure what I did today. A lot of sitting around and sort of waiting for something to happen. I've reached that point in the year where I feel restless. I want to rearrange my room, reorganize my desk, travel. In two weeks I leave for Colorado and I feel impatient today. I know it's probably a little too soon to start packing, but I'm restless and I know I'm going to end up packing anyway and living two more weeks of my life out of a suitcase.

Since I knew it was too soon to pack, though, I spent the day trying to find other things to do, working on homework that isn't due for another week, trying to braid my short hair.  I even took a walk thinking I'd feel better if I got out of my room. Eventually my roommate convinced me to go splurge on a milkshake so we walked downtown and then window shopped in the mall and came back up to campus to watch Taylor Swift music videos and a chick flick.

Unfortunately, now I feel tired and extremely unpoetical. Plus I am thinking I should do the homework due Monday... I mean, finishing all my Thursday homework was great, but Monday comes first...

So  here's a poem by Amiri Baraka instead of one by me. I found this for my Creative Writing Anthology and I love it so much. I have no daughter, and my mom isn't here, but tonight I will be talking into my own clasped hands and giving God all the thoughts clouding up my mind.

Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note
Amiri Baraka (LeRoi Jones)

Lately, I’ve become accustomed to the way
The ground opens up and envelopes me
Each time I go out to walk the dog.
Or the broad edged silly music the wind
Makes when I run for a bus…
Things have come to that.

And now, each night I count the stars.
And each night I get the same number.
And when they will not come to be counted,
I count the holes they leave.

Nobody sings anymore.

And then last night I tiptoed up
To my daughter’s room and heard her
Talking to someone, and when I opened
The door, there was no one there…
Only she on her knees, peeking into

Her own clasped hands.