Young Once

I wrote that, before
the games, the spinning
wheel and chance. O—
to be young in the US
when, suddenly, you’re
in a Kelly Reichardt film
or Florida, but it’s too
warm and dry
now; the bombs are
falling and it is just
too much.

I crave clarity,
black and white,
and imagine some classic
unspooling, but even
then it’s Nicholas Ray
and Technicolor, and death
is waiting. Young once—
and where’s America?

I’m sad.
Alone, under the dying
sky, riddled by heat, I
miss the start of things,
the belief that we
could stop, would stop
the escalation. How
many films end with death?
How often do we expect it?
We did. And still we hoped
our youth could save us.

Tyler Truman Julian lives in Wyoming, where he writes, edits, and teaches. He received his MFA in fiction from New Mexico State University and now serves as Review Editor for The Shore. He is the author of Wyoming: The Next Question to Ask (to Answer) (Finishing Line Press, 2019), from which work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. His work has been published in Barren Magazine, Tupelo Quarterly, South Dakota Review, EcoTheo Review, and other journals. For more information, visit his website: tylertrumanjulian.com.