One more, and then I'll read a bit.
I think do you all like Rupi Kaur?
You like Rupi Kaur?
Read a poem for her?
Yeah.
This is called "Poem for Rupi Kaur."
I think it's a bad rap.
People don't like her because she's popular but.
"Poem for Rupi Kaur."
Lying in bed at 3:00 AM,
Listening to him cough
In his bear pajamas is not fun.
There's no joy right now or ever.
Now that I know my heart lives outside my body,
In him and the grass, and my wife.
Because you wrote defeated eyes,
I know you understand how I feel when
I say the high fever of night.
There are no defenses.
Again, I do the math.
Will I live long enough to see him thrive
In what sort of world we are living, not in, but on?
You know what I mean.
One of the continents is on fire.
You are not wrong to think in poems
We can solve something complicated.
A lot of things are not information.
Here in the middle of complicated night,
It has become clear,
We cannot trust the central metaphor,
Which is we are children.
Though it is true, we are not safe anywhere.
I love my son, his little bear pajamas,
My wife, the grass, the ends of poems.