INSTRUCTIONS ON STAYING ALIVE

by Sydney Vogl

don’t get angry. instead, feign like your mother, smiling, 

strangling your grief to the ocean floor. drown 

without making a fuss. unhinge your jaw & invite the blame 

down your throat. nevermind the life guard & his deserted post, 

arm around a girl who seems untempted by her desire to swim 

beyond the buoy. the ocean’s biggest waves 

erupt beneath the surface. imagine a 650-foot tantrum 

no one can see. if the tantrum looks like a blonde boy, it means 

you let the wrong person touch you. the bad news: rules change 

every three minutes or so, depending on pigment & the wind. 

the good news: if you learn to listen carefully, you’ll hear the dead 

girls singing their warnings. consider that, next time. 

consider the highway of buried women before you purge yourself 

all over your mother’s kitchen island. a girl should disappear 

herself when necessary. no one can flood your lungs better than you.