& I can tell you what happens to Okonkwo,

the Mirabal sisters, Akaky, the gore

of the tenth grade curriculum sprawled

out in front of the class like the scene

of a crime, the detectives wondering

why does it always end like this? And me, the lead

detective & suspect posing questions

to sixteen-year-olds like maybe

we can find something more here with blood

dripping from my hands and the pages, sopping

really, sick grin across my face. And then, there’s

the Seamstress (the exception) who never dies, always

disappears over the mountain, into the mist like a raven,

and even that is unsettling to them: the awakening

of a young woman. The next morning,

I take them outside, read “Wild Geese”

& “Good Bones”. Try to convince them

as the cold, spring wind blows hard

through their hair, as they chew

bubblegum and poke each other

in the ribs, that there is life, that there is wind

blowing through their hair & bubblegum

& the girl can live at the end & that

is enough, that is enough.