This poem from Molly Jean Bennett has been haunting me since it was published on The Collapsar earlier this month- enjoy!


When I ask my septuagenarian friend if he has ever
been heartbroken, he says it is a young question

Have I ever cracked an egg and found a yolk inside?
Have I watched the sun drop over the river like

I could begin again? Did I throw onions in a buttered
pan and feel hunger pure enough to ruin me? I ask

him to go on but he gets quiet. I am full of young questions.