We hotboxed our first joint
on the long drive into the country
for Reiki class. Your eyes were
a swelling pond of frogs
in a rainstorm. Mouth a stale
basket of fruit left on a doorway.
Upon arrival my legs left me,
worked for someone else.
In class you heard voices
in the untouching of your body.
Stars hummed in the back of your
throat. I stared at the fire alarm
until it was the summer of who
we are today. Itís a story we still
bring up some twenty years later.
A story you tell your son in the future
on a screened-in porch, your voice
disappearing into the trees.


Noah Falck is the author of the poetry collections Snowmen Losing Weight (BatCat Press, 2012) and Exclusions (Tupelo Press, 2019), and the co-editor of My Next Heart: New Buffalo Poetry (BlazeVOX Books, 2017). He works as Education Director at the not-for-profit Just Buffalo Literary Center and curates the Silo City Reading Series, a multimedia poetry series inside a 130-foot abandoned grain silo.