Graduation

We all hit the fan

Splattering against the walls

Like chicken pox

Surprise unfolded in

Our faces

As the fan blades

Split us apart

But I find this does not

Justify our confusion

Since I did not

Push us into the fan

None of us did

So I say our 

Shredding came

Like a jam jar

Meeting pavement

Berries grown

Glass blown

Thought to be safe

In our hands

We had cradled

The jar for 

Years

And in our confidence

We dropped the jar

Before we even tasted 

The jam

All that is left now

are our unweighted palms

Floating up to the fan

All that is left now

Are the red lines

The jar lid

Burned on our fingertips

And we feel shame

Seeing the jam lying

On the floor

It took the fall for us

Chunks of glass float

Like icebergs

Irreparable 

And the fresh jam

Seems to rot as soon 

As it hits the floor

irreversible

We can only imagine

Whether the jam

was sweet or sour

Yet we know the 

Teeth of the jar 

Will shred our tongue

If we try to undo 

What we have done

And we can’t take anymore

Pain

Or we may join the jar on the 

Floor

We can only stare up at

The ceiling fan

which in our foolishness

Our burning excitement

We did throw ourselves into

Hearing nothing

But the whirling blades

And the crunch of the

Jam jar

As it slipped from

Our grip

And we have ripped into 

June with our foot on 

The gas

May dandelions 

Pufferfish 

And as we stretch down the

Walls in torn pieces

slicing the paint 

Trying to turn off the fan

Our eyes find the 

Mess of jar

On the floor

And we can only

Imagine what the

Jam tasted like