By Amorak Huey
I am excited for the gritty live action remake of my life. Looking forward to being portrayed by an increasingly handsome series of actors, fresh-faced, rugged, eventually, inevitably brooding. Interested to see all the ways they get you and me wrong — sometimes married, sometimes secret lovers, sometimes rivals, sometimes not part of the plot at all. Staying faithful to the source material is an aesthetic choice, but some scenes will be hard to resist, and maybe all I want is the montage anyway: us in my car in your driveway, so young, all uncertainty and porchlight — us on your dorm room bed in our clothes, laughing ourselves breathless, and so young — us on the sand by Lake Michigan, hiding in the background of a stranger’s vacation photo, the sun setting and every kiss shaped like goodbye, and still, though we didn’t know it, so young.
And what in the end do we learn from all this ceaseless change?
Mourn. We learn to mourn.
Amorak Huey is author of four books of poems including Dad Jokes from Late in the Patriarchy (Sundress Publications, 2021). Co-founder with Han VanderHart of River River Books, Huey teaches writing at Bowling Green State University in Ohio.