Sara Wainscott

Not Even Truth Can Change Your Mind


Every minute I seemed to think of you. Fleetwood Mac songs seeped
from speakers planted in the poolside azaleas, which made me sad
in a stupid kind of way. When I ordered more wine I was afraid

the guy would take it as biography, and the internet made me afraid
that I could be deleted, or could never be. How strange not to need
a pill to sleep, but I could get used to feeling tiredness I've earned.

And then, for real, a skywriter started tracing JESUS from a cloud.