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At the play my niece wrote
We created a story inside of our heads and it's here at
the play my niece wrote. People in pink and turquoise
shirts praise the show but we know in the dark that a
small and fishlike creature with fur walks the aisles
and it thinks, and we know, and we know it's not real but
our minds cannot stop and it bites Aunt Roe's toes
and she weeps. It's a play and a new form of war, the
scales of a carp, with patches of mink on its skin, we must
stop but they blossom, the teeth and the scales, in our
minds, and it's mouths and a tongue licking fangs and the
gums of a shark, and we try but we can't, it is there
and it knows and it knows and it thinks and we don't
know its voice but it thinks, it very, very quietly thinks.
Julie Nariman is a teacher and assistant principal at a public school in New York City ,
and writes, hikes, and studies Korean and Spanish to have fun and get perspective on a gigantically
complex school system. She has published essays in Transitions Abroad and The Korea Times,
and was the winner of the Jake Cranage Poetry Award at Penn State University .
Email: Julie Nariman
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