
ALT Otherwise by Jane Kenyon I got out of bed on two strong legs. It might have been otherwise. I ate cereal, sweet milk, ripe, flawless peach. It might have been otherwise. I took the dog uphill to the birch wood. All morning I did the work I love. At noon I lay down with my mate. It might have been otherwise. We ate dinner together at a table with silver candlesticks. It might have been otherwise. I slept in a bed in a room with paintings on the walls, and planned another day just like this day. But one day, I know, it will be otherwise.
![The Year By Chen Chen December 27, 2024 [abstract image from Flickr] In January I wonder if Father Time ever likes being called Daddy. In February I injure my left foot. In March I chortle. On March 31st I realize there are 31 days in March. In April I eat healthy while watching too much TV. In May I make a decision about snail figurines (more, please). In June I flail but do not fail completely. Later in June](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/GgFOlqGWMAAXOLU.jpg?name=small&format=webp)
ALT The Year By Chen Chen December 27, 2024 [abstract image from Flickr] In January I wonder if Father Time ever likes being called Daddy. In February I injure my left foot. In March I chortle. On March 31st I realize there are 31 days in March. In April I eat healthy while watching too much TV. In May I make a decision about snail figurines (more, please). In June I flail but do not fail completely. Later in June

ALT I wonder what it feels like to be the second “a” in Aaron. During the summer solstice I lie face down butt naked in bed with the standing fan pointed at my behind. In July I chortle, I even cackle in one park, then another, I laugh as though I don’t know I will die or like I know I will return as a glittering sound. In August I almost learn to play volleyball. At the end of August my lover says, Bless you, bless you, oh wow bless you, one for each sneeze, which is impressive, as there is so little time between them. By the way, do the days of the week ever get jealous of the months? I think Tuesday gets jealous of September. Just a hunch. In September I am steadfast, I am devoted to the wall calendar as well as the desk, the phone & computer, loopy Gregorian & gorgeous lunar, I worship all calendars while despising the ever-quickening passage of time.
![In October I reschedule a dentist appointment. In November everything murmurs. In December every soul’s pulse is loud. By December 5th or so I am ready for the new year but not for January. I ask Daddy Time why January why. I ask if he could give me more July if I gave him head. I ask if he would prefer being called Sir. At 3pm on the 31st of December it is not over. At midnight on the 31st or is it now the 1st I wonder what it would feel like to feel alive, to be living every single one of Sir Father Dad’s seconds, & whether anyone on earth could stand it. — Chen Chen is the author of two poetry books, Your Emergency Contact Has Experienced an Emergency and When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities, both published by BOA Editions. He lives in Rochester, New York. [link to buy the book]](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/GgFOlqGWMAEvigL.jpg?name=small&format=webp)
ALT In October I reschedule a dentist appointment. In November everything murmurs. In December every soul’s pulse is loud. By December 5th or so I am ready for the new year but not for January. I ask Daddy Time why January why. I ask if he could give me more July if I gave him head. I ask if he would prefer being called Sir. At 3pm on the 31st of December it is not over. At midnight on the 31st or is it now the 1st I wonder what it would feel like to feel alive, to be living every single one of Sir Father Dad’s seconds, & whether anyone on earth could stand it. — Chen Chen is the author of two poetry books, Your Emergency Contact Has Experienced an Emergency and When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities, both published by BOA Editions. He lives in Rochester, New York. [link to buy the book]






























