{"id":1292,"date":"2019-11-20T15:17:33","date_gmt":"2019-11-20T20:17:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/?page_id=1292"},"modified":"2019-11-20T15:18:36","modified_gmt":"2019-11-20T20:18:36","slug":"brandy-barents","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/brandy-barents\/","title":{"rendered":"Brandy Barents"},"content":{"rendered":"

 <\/p>\n

Crossing into Boston<\/h2>\n

From the bridge,
\nDowntown could be a postcard.
\nElms expose squirrels\u2019 nests and
\ngeese match the ground.<\/p>\n

A pigeon on the railing
\nsailor-dives
\nuntil the wind catches him.<\/p>\n

Ducks follow one another,
\nwaddle onto ice
\nand jump\u2014
\nland gracelessly on their bellies.
\nCircles form around them.<\/p>\n

With snow this deep,
\nI shadow the stranger in front of me
\nperhaps too closely.
\nHe slouches. I slouch.
\nWe give in to the weight of our bodies.
\n <\/p>\n

Anniversary<\/h2>\n

The lights,
\nraised and lowered all night,
\naged me.<\/p>\n

This time, I prepared myself
\nfor the deaths:<\/p>\n

the first crush fails,
\nthe new lust builds;<\/p>\n

a character wails
\nreal tears in front of us!<\/p>\n

It was easy to clap and cry
\nin the dark.<\/p>\n

We walk home after the play.
\nWe\u2019ve shared half our lives,<\/p>\n

but sometimes it happens.
\nSeldom. Rarely. Still\u2014<\/p>\n

We appear as happy strangers\u2014
\nbeside ourselves with possibility.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A House We Won’t Buy<\/h2>\n

I was thinking of the kids,
\nat the party where the children had room.
\nThis is us now and youngish\u2014
\nwe\u2019re always exhausted.
\nThis place is always a shithole.
\nI\u2019m always at my wit\u2019s end.
\n 
\nBut love keeps me pent-up here.
\nThese views from the rooftop windows,
\nthese tiresome fruitflies,
\nthis stove that won\u2019t light, this table
\nyou\u2019re so happy about because it means
\nwe can all sit together.
\n <\/p>\n

Brandy Barents lives in Cambridge and teaches at Boston University. Her work has been in Barrow Street, The Country Dog Review,<\/em> and The American Literary Review<\/em>.<\/h5>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  Crossing into Boston From the bridge, Downtown could be a postcard. Elms expose squirrels\u2019 nests and geese match the ground. A pigeon on the railing sailor-dives until the wind catches him. Ducks follow one another, waddle onto ice and jump\u2014 land gracelessly on their bellies. Circles form around them. With snow this deep, I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":8422,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1292"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/8422"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1292"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1292\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1294,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1292\/revisions\/1294"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1292"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}